Fireflies
by Epic F. Awesomesauce
Summary: Lovino was abandoned in Italy with his grandfather at age seven because his parents liked his little brother better than they liked him. On his way back from America, he sits next to a far too happy Spaniard. But, when this childish Spaniard turns out to be not only his new teacher what will happen? And with a field trip to Venice on the way, what antics will they get up to?
1. An Awkward Meeting

**Romeo: Seborga**

* * *

**An Awkward Meeting**

* * *

_"There's a firefly / loose tonight / better catch it 'fore it burns this place down."_

_Ed Sheeran, "Firefly"_

* * *

"Lovi, see you later!" my twin waves at me as I go to board my plane. I wave back, forcing a smile even though I don't want to.

"See you!" I call, trying to sound happy. I try not to look at my parents, but they're standing right behind Feli, and out of the corner of my eye I see my dad busy doing something on his phone, my mom waving towards me but looking fondly at Feli. "I'll come visit you soon!" I call to him, hoping my voice doesn't sound as watery as I think it does. I feel like I'm going to burst into wet, unmanly tears the instant Feli is out of my sight.

I take a deep, steadying breath and walk into the plane, finding a seat by a window and taking it before anyone else can. I stare out of the window, finding Feli once again and wriggling my fingers at him. He smiles at me happily, not seeing the single tear slipping down my cheek. Maybe it's because he's too far away. Yeah, that's definitely it.

The person sitting next to me clears his throat awkwardly, and I quickly swipe a sleeve across my cheeks before turning to glare at him. He has curly, dark brown hair and emerald-green eyes that sparkle in the sunlight streaking through the window. He's wearing a very gentle smile and a wine-red button-down shirt with black jeans. He looks very casual-chic, like he's just walked straight out of a magazine, minus the seductive smile male models always have. His is just plain nice, and it makes me want to burst into tears and tell him everything that's wrong with my life.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asks kindly.

"Fuck off!" I tell him. His facial expression turns faintly surprised, but then he goes back to smiling like a... like a... like my brother!

"It's just that you seemed rather lonesome, so I felt like I should ask how you were feeling." He hands me another beatific smile.

"If I wanted to talk to someone I'd go see a therapist! Now leave me the fuck alone!" I turn away from him and look back out the window. Feli and our parents are gone now. They left before the plane did. They didn't even bother to see me all the way off. Just. Like. Always. I thought maybe this time would be different. I was even excited about visiting them this summer. I somehow convinced myself, yet again, that this time they would care enough about me for us to be a family again.

They hadn't.

And I'm abandoned once more.

I get out the notebook I had brought with me and begin writing furiously. I prefer typing, but writing by hand is okay. Anything is okay as long as I can slip out of my life and into my character's. They're problems seemed so much... _better_ than mine, even if they're running for their lives from freaky alligator people. How much do I wish I could be in a life or death situation like them instead of the one I'm in? Too much. Which is exactly how much my parents _don't_ care about me.

I pretend I can't see the tears wetting the paper as I write. I'll get myself under control soon, I swear it. I won't let my parents hurt me like this anymore. I won't. So what if they send me to live with my grandfather in Italy, while they and my twin brother live happily in New York City? So what? Do I care? Of course not! It doesn't matter to me!

I swipe a sleeve across my eyes yet again and try to focus on the paper, the pencil leaving fine silver lines on the pure white paper, the lines forming letters, which in turn form words, which then form the life I want to live, the life of a group of people trying to help each other escape from evil alligators.  
All of them, together, a family.

I swipe a hand across my eyes yet again and try not to burst into loud, pathetic sobs as the plane takes off.

* * *

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

* * *

I wake up a couple of hours later, feeling like shit that's just been run over by a bunch of dickheads with cars. Big cars. Monster trucks. My face feels puffy from all the crying, and I don't need to see my reflection in the window to know that I look like I was just stung by a thousand hornets. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck _fuck._

I sit up straight, my back sore from falling asleep leaning against a window. My mouth tastes like especially dry cotton balls, and every part of me feels sore, especially my face. I feel someone sit down in the seat next to me and turn on reflex to see who it is. It's the too-nice man from before.

"Hello," he says, smiling at me kindly and holding out a water bottle. "I brought you a drink. I thought you would be thirsty after... um, before."

I warily take the bottle from him. "I don't appreciate this," I tell him suspiciously, uncapping the bottle and taking a sip. "And I'm in no way thanking you. At all." I take another sip, then, suddenly realizing how delicious water is, down the rest of it in a couple gulps. I'm still thirsty, but I don't tell him that.

"I didn't ask you to thank me." he says, and even his goddamn _voice_ is smiling. I turn to glare at him and find him holding out another full water bottle.

"Where did you-" I start, but he presses the water bottle into my hands.

"Drink. No offense, but you lost a lot of water, and this flight is a long one. I don't want you passing out or anything."

I kind of consider not taking the bottle, but I'm too thirsty to pass it up. "If you keep this up, I'll be forced to thank you," I mumble under my breath when that water bottle is gone as well. He just shoots me another smile.

"No one can force you to say thank you, and even if they could, I wouldn't want someone to say that if they didn't truly want to. Would you like another bottle? I have quite a few." Stop smiling. You're scaring me.

I shake my head, then say, "Maybe... just one?" It comes out a question, like I'm asking him if I want another water bottle or not. "I mean, I do want one." I correct hurriedly. Fucking dammit.

He hands me another one, but I don't drink this one straight away. I know that if I do I'll have to pee in no time at all, and I don't want to have to ask him to get out of his seat just so that I can go to the bathroom.

"So," he begins amiably. I bristle immediately. From my experience, questions are just another way for someone to become disappointed in you. "What's your name?"

I relax just slightly. "Lovino." I say. "Not that it matters to you." I add snootily.

"And where are you going, Lovino?"

"Italy." I answer warily. Isn't this what weird rapist people ask when they're looking for a victim?

"What a coincidence, me too!" he smiles at me in a way that makes me want to smile back. I don't but he makes me want to. "Where in Italy are you going?"

"Rome," I answer pertly. "I'm going to be staying with my Nonno for the school year."

"Oh? Are in some sort of exchange student program?"

"Fuck no! Leave me alone!" I say. I turn away to look back out the window. There are clouds all around me. They make me feel like I'm flying. And yeah, I know that, technically, I guess I am flying, but I mean _really_ flying, with wings of my own. Wouldn't that be nice? No one could send you away if you were up there. No one would be up there with you. You wouldn't need anyone at all, and you especially wouldn't need parents who don't love you enough to even bother saying goodbye.

The man persists. "Oh, I just realized that I forgot to introduce myself! My name is Antonio Carriedo, and I am going to Rome as well! Isn't that strange? I'm also going for school, if you can believe it! Isn't that funny? I can't believe we're going to the same place for the same thing!"

I can feel a vein pulsing in my forehead. Does the man ever stop talking? Really now, you'd think someone old enough to be moving to Rome would know when to shut his damn mouth. I pull out my notebook yet again, hoping he'll get the hint, but instead he just asks, "Oh, what is that you're writing?"

"None of your business!" I say heatedly, snatching my notebook away from his prying eyes. "Now, will you please shut up? I don't want to talk! Not to anyone!" I turn away from him, trying to shelter my notebook with my body as much as I can. It's hard to write with it squished up against my chest, but I kind of manage it. A little. Okay, not at all, especially because for some reason I feel like Antonio, I think is what he said his name is, is looking over my shoulder, but every time I look back to see if he is he's looking in the other direction. So either he has really good timing or he's not looking. It's still too much of a risk for me, so I stuff my notebook back into my carry-on bag.

"Oh!" Antonio says, turning back to me. "Can we talk again now? What school are you going to be going to? I wonder if it's the same school that hired me! Wouldn't that be funny?"

I sigh and lean against the window, watching the clouds below us zoom past. And I thought this plane ride was going to be long _before._

* * *

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

* * *

Someone's shaking me. I feel like I tell them to go fuck themselves, but I'm not completely sure. I blearily open my eyes and look at the person shaking me. All I can make out are some pretty green eyes. I feel like poetically describing them: _Beautiful, sparkling emeralds, glittering in the sunlight, staring at me lovingly-_

I jerk awake as I realize what I just thought-and hopefully _didn't_ say. Did I really just poetically describe the eyes of some random, older _guy_ that I met a couple hours ago on a plane ride? I think my writing is getting to me. Too bad I won't ever stop.

"Lovino? Are you awake?" Antonio asks. "The plane has just landed in Rome, and I thought I would wake you up so that you could leave-and I was thinking that maybe we should get a taxi together, since it would cost less. Okay?"

"What?" I ask sleepily.

"Okay!" he says happily. "I'm glad we've decided. Now come one, get up, it's time for us to go now." He grabs my arm and heaves me to my feet. He pushes something into my hands, and I see that it's my carry-on bag. He pulls me up the center aisle of the plane, then out the door and down the steps.

"Okay, you have to help me find your luggage," he tells me.

"Yeah, yeah, I fucking get it, we're leaving, jesus!" I jerk my arm out of his grip. "I can walk by myself, prick!" I tell him with a glare. He just smiles at me, then points me in the direction of the luggage. I try to pretend that I knew where it was all along.

I stomp forward, grab my bag, and stomp back over to him. He's already got his own bag, the prick, and he smilingly leads me outside, where there is a taxi idling, waiting for us. He opens the trunk, throws his bags in, grabs mine from me and throws them in and then, to my astonishment, opens the door for me. I just stare at him, and he smiles back. I climb into the car with a "Fucking retard," and he closes the door after me, crossing around to the other side to get in. The taxi driver looks at me like I'm incredibly lucky to know a guy who'd do that, but I disagree. I think he's just incredibly stupid.

"Where are you going then?" asks the taxi driver in Italian. Antonio looks as if he can't quite understand. He's probably wondering why it sounds kind of like Spanish but not quite.

"He's asking where we want to go, _idiota._" I translate for him.

Antonio's eyes light up. "Oh! Okay then! You can tell him first!" he says brightly.

I roll my eyes, then tell the taxi driver my address. He pulls into traffic and zooms off.

Throughout the whole taxi ride, Antonio keeps up a lively conversation with the taxi driver in stilted (on the driver's part) English, who seems absolutely happy to keep talking even while zipping through the dodgy Italian traffic. Driving in America scares me, to tell you the truth. I always expect someone to randomly shoot forward and crash into someone who's driving too slow, like in Italy, except that the other car would dodge.

When we reach my house, Antonio gets my bag out of the trunk (I don't let him open my door this time) and then walks me happily up to the door. Just before I can go inside, he pulls out a random sharpie, grabs my wrist, and scribbles down what I figure is his number on my arm.

"See you sometime!" he calls as he waves after me.

"Bastard!" I shout, slamming the door behind me.

I drag my suitcase up the two flights of stairs up to my attic bedroom, then start unpacking my bags. I only have two, my carry on and my suitcase, and they're both mostly just books. I usually just borrow clothes from Feli when I go to visit them, since we're the same size.

The front door slams open and I hear my brother's footsteps on the stairs. "Lovino!" he shouts, nearly to my room. "You'd better be home, because I have to tell you this story about this girl I met yesterday, she had long brown hair and bright green eyes and she kept asking me if I-"

I lean against the door as he tries to open it, fighting to keep him out of my room. "Bastard, leave me alone! I don't want to talk to you about some fucking girl!"

He leans against his side of the door. "Haha,_ Lovino_ doesn't want to talk about _girls_, 'cause he's _gay_." he says in a sing-song voice. Fucking christ, you'd think someone so shrimpy wouldn't be able to put up such a fight.

"I am _not,_ gay, you little _cazzo_! Now leave me the fuck alone!"

"_Gay, gay, gay_!" he sings, making slurping noises with his mouth. "_Fratello's gay_!"

I heave myself with all my strength against the door, and he falls over with a strangled cry. I quickly click the lock into place and lean against the door, sighing in relief. Wait, why slurping noises? ...Actually, I don't even want to know.

I go to my desk and open my laptop, opening up my writing program so that I can write a couple chapters before Nonno gets home-

"Lovino! Romeo! Are you here?" calls a jovial voice as the front door is slammed against the wall next to it. I groan, letting my head fall onto my keyboard and making a bunch of random words appear on the virtual page.

"Fuuuuuuck," I moan. Then I heave my sorry ass out of my chair and go to open the door and walk downstairs to greet Nonno before he breaks into my room, which he's done before, sadly. But first I grab a long-sleeved hoodie and throw it on so that Nonno can't see the number written on my arm, because who _knows_ what he'd say about that.

As I descend the stairs, I can hear my_ fratellino_ whining to Nonno about how "Lovino pushed me, waaaahhhh!"

"I did not, bastard!" I yell down the stairs. "You fell over by your fucking self!" It's not a total lie. He let himself fall over. He always does that, because he wants Nonno to feel sorry for him.

As I reach the bottom step, Nonno throws himself on me, wrapping my arms around me and fervently trying to crush the life out of me. Or something like that, because I can't breathe at all for the whole twenty seconds he "hugs" me for.

"Lovinooooooo!" he squeals. "You're baaaaack!"

"Of course, _cazzo_!" I growl, shoving him away from me. "What did you think, I would be kidnapped before I could get home? I mean, it's not like _Mom and Dad_ would actually let me stay."

Romulus Vargas, also known as my extremely eccentric Nonno, looks rather guilty, like the whole situation was actually his doing. I don't know what sort of weird ideas the fucking idiot has gotten into his head since I left, but I do know that he's enough like Feliciano to think that the whole thing is his fault because of some absolutely _retarded_ reason that makes no sense whatsoever!

"Lovino..." he starts, but then he stops, looking confused. I start feeling sorry for him. He has this bad habit of forgetting what he's talking about. He's older than he looks and acts, and that's the only thing that betrays it. And even then, half the time he gets younger girls (and, sometimes, guys) just because they think he's more around late forties than late fifties... Ahem, awkward.

I hold up a hand. "Don't even continue," I sigh. "Now, who's cooking dinner, because if it's pasta I swear to god I will kill you all."

Romeo enters the room grumpily, holding a rolling pin. "I'm making pizza!" he says, glaring at me. "And it's not gonna be as Feli's, but it's gonna be good, and you're gonna like it!" He crosses his arms and glares at me. Nonno, sensing a fight, tries to calm us down by saying something about making brownies, but it's too late.

"You know what, Romeo? I'm not gonna like it. It's gonna be disgusting. Even pigs could make better pizza then you!"

"Let's see you make it then! Because I just want to have more tomato pizza! NOT!" Nonno edges away slowly as we continue bickering, probably to call this one guy that he's infatuated with. Apparently they were best friends in college, and they might've felt a bit more, but then college finished and they never saw each other again until he and his grandsons moved to Italy to go to Vargas Academy and he realized, oh shnap, the headmaster is my crush from college! But anyways, let's not get into it, because the idea of two old men... doing anything... oh, _dio mio,_ ew! I don't understand how my friend Michelle thinks it's romantic. It's not. It's just gross. Extremely so. I'm just glad I didn't tell Feli about it when I was there, because there is no doubt in my mind his eyes would turn into little hearts and he'd start waltzing around the room, sighing "Veeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeee~!"

When I'm done arguing with Romeo, I storm up to the bathroom to take a long, hot shower, and maybe wash that stupid phone number off my arm before Nonno notices it and asks if I got laid. Oh, sweet Jesus, is he _annoying_. On a scale from zero to Feli, I'd say my twin inherited it.

I go to my room and pull my favorite pair of sweatpants out, which I can't ever bring to America with me for fear my mother will remember she's Italian and likes fashion (meaning she'd throw them out), and a t-shirt that says something about kittens. I think I borrowed it from Feli at some point and just didn't give it back. As I'm leaving the room, I hesitate by my notebook, looking at my arm. Well, no, not my arm, more like the number that is, sadly, decorating my arm. I hesitate for a moment and then, acting on a whim-something I don't get very often, thank you!-I quickly copy it into my notebook. I don't really want to keep it for anything, but... at the same time, I do. Plus, it'd just show Romeo that I have more than just his and Nonno's number in my phone! I'll have his, Nonno's, a couple of my friends', and some random guys number, who I met on an airplane!

...I quickly scribble over the number. There's no way in hell I'll keep it. Plus, that guy was just way too happy for me. _Way._

I walk to the bathroom, happy to finally wash America-and that stupid number-off of me, and when I'm done, I'll go downstairs and eat pizza and feel like I'm Italian again.

* * *

**A/N Okay, first off I wanted to explain the title of this fic. It has nothing to do with Owl City, but it has everything to do with Ed Sheeran and his song "Firefly" which I quoted up top. See, the way I see that song, the firefly they have to catch is basically love or some such thing, and they have to catch it before it burns the place down because love turns our whole world upside down and could burn down our life without necessarily rebuilding it. This story is about millions of fireflies trying as hard as they can to get loose and rewrite the world, hence the name.**

**Second, this isn't going to be one of those stories where everyone's just like, "Oh, I'm gay, blah blah blah!" and all cool about it. Lovino is kind of super American in this story, plus he's also a bit religious, so he doesn't want to be gay, he doesn't want to accept it, and he just wants to be normal. He's always overlooked because of Feliciano, who won't come in for a while, and he doesn't want the one thing that differentiates him from his much better brother to be something his family will hate him for. And this will probably be a bit darker than it seems at first, though not as dark as some of my stories.**

**Third, I have never been to Rome, Venice, or even away from the North American Continent in my life, so sorry if any of you who live in Italy or have been there before think I'm talking total bullshit. I am, of course, but hey, let's just go with it, okay? :3**

**Fourth, Romeo is Seborga, who is a micro-nation I found on one of my millions of Hetalia freak internet searches. I will be introducing any OC's or other micro-nations at the beginning of each chapter, before the chapter title, so just hang tight, you'll get used to them all eventually!**

**Fifth, anyone who reviews gets to read the next chapter! XD Jk, you can read it even if you haven't. But if you follow or favorite, you get to read the next TWO chapters! *wiggles eyebrows enticingly* It's a good deal, riiiiiiight? XD**

**(Oh yeah, and if you get the chance, look up Ed Sheeran's song "Firefly" on Youtube, the video that's by a Harry something-or-other. The video is gorgeous, the song is even more gorgeous, and the singer-well, he's ED SHEERAN. XD)**

**(Also... those little space-fillers are my lame attempt at making dango, as in "Dango Daikazoku" from Clannad! If you haven't watched that anime... here's a link: watch?v=E5TbshU7PwI Just add Youtube!)**


	2. In Which I Am An Idiota

**In Which I Am An Idiota**

* * *

_"Give a little time to me / we'll burn this out."_

_ Ed Sheeran, "Give Me Love"_

* * *

The next day is Saturday. Saturday is my blah day, when I just go downstairs, sit on the couch in front of the tv, wrapped in blankets, and watch Doctor Who while writing my never-ending book on the computer. Nonno has gone out to have coffee with one of his friends and Romeo is out today, too, probably going out to the square so that he can sit around and chat up girls until his mouth falls off from talking. I honestly wouldn't be surprised if he came home one night holding his lips in his hand and looking mournful.

Around two in the afternoon I get up and heat myself up some leftover pizza. Though I'd never admit it to his face-or at all, actually-Romeo's pizza is extremely good, possibly even better then my little angel brother. Jesus, the way my parents talk about Feli, you'd think he was, well, _Jesus_. "Oh, Feli, you're such an angel!" or "Oh Feli, this pasta is so good! Did God give you the recipe?" or, and this one is my favorite: "Feli, I'm so glad we had you! We were so worried we'd never have children!"

And this is coming from the people with three children. Stupid fuckers. Romeo barely even remembers our parents, since we left when he was three to go live with Nonno, and he hasn't been back to America since. He says it's because he hates our parents, but I know that it's really because he doesn't want to see them fawn over Feli while completely ignoring him.

When the pizza's done, I go back to blobbing on the couch. I know that this will make me seem totally gay, but the only thing that could make this any better right now would be a) an epic make out scene on Torchwood (you who watch know what I mean) or b) a jar of Nutella. Wait, did you hear that? Was it angels singing? No, it was just the sound of the word: Nutella.

And so, of course, since everything is the very meaning of the word perfect, it has to be ruined. I'm just waiting.

My phone buzzes on the table next to me, and I absently pick it up. It's a text from my friend Michelle, asking if I want to hang out at this cafe we like with our friends Bella and Eliza tomorrow. I quickly type back a positive answer and then remember that Antonio's number is still on my arm. I pull my sleeve up- I had to wear long sleeves so that Romeo wouldn't see it -and copy it into my contacts. He ends up right at the top. Oh fuck. Now I just _have_ to call him.

I quickly press call and hold the phone up to my ear, waiting with bated breath, reminding myself that I'm supposed to be hoping that he doesn't pick up, instead of hoping that he does.

The line clicks open. _Fuck!_

"Hello?" asks Jolly Old Saint Antonio. _Fuck_. Can he even get any happier?

"Hi..." I say, wanting to hang up the phone, or maybe throw it on the ground, or drown it in the bathtub.

"Lovino?" he asks happily. "You called me? That's great! Hello! What can I do for you?"

Before I know what's happening, I'm asking him if he wants to go out for gelato. Today. Right now.

There's an awkward moment of silence where he doesn't reply and I think he's about to say no, but then he says: "Of course! Where at? I might not be able to get there too fast, though, because, heh, I really don't know my way around yet. I know, maybe you could show me around a bit! Wouldn't that be fun?"

"Yeah..." I say, feeling miserable. Why did I have to do this? Why am I ruining my perfect day so that I can eat ice cream with some random guy I met on a plane, who's probably at least six years older than me and could, for all I know, be a fucking pedophile! (And what did that awkward silence mean? Was it just that he was embarrassed to admit he didn't know his way around, or-no, don't think about it, Lovino!)

"Where should we meet then?" he asks cheerily. His smile travels through the phone and latches itself onto the top of my head to fuck with my senses.

"Um, tell me around where you live, we can meet up at a gelato place around there." He promptly reads me off his address which I immediately file away. "Not too far from my place. Okay, from where you are, go straight down..." I list a couple of streets, spelling them so that he knows what they are, and I can practically hear him nodding emphatically as I give him the directions.

"Okay then, see you soon, Lovino!" He hangs up the phone, and I just stare at the screen for a couple moments. What the hell am I doing? I mean... what the hell? What the _hell_?! _Cazzo!_ I'm such a fucking idiot!

I throw myself off the couch, turn off the tv, then go upstairs to my room to change. After all, I can't very well go outside wearing my lazing-about outfit. I pull on a pair of light gray jeans and then stand, at a loss, in front of my closet. What else? I could put on that white button down shirt, but that would be too fancy, I think. I don't want to wear any of my other t-shirts because they're all black with random heavy metal bands on it. I don't know why Nonno insists that I like heavy metal, but he gets me one of these fucking shirts for every gift-giving occasion, and it pisses me off. I think I'm going to tear them all apart and make a nice, warm quilt out of them.

I finally settle on a t-shirt that's just plain red. I have no idea where I got it, but I think it looks pretty good with my jeans. In fact, if I just had a dark gray scarf, I could be wearing something straight off of one of the One Direction boys. If figure that's pretty good, all things considered.

Once I'm done getting dressed, I go and quickly brush my teeth- because I hate people with bad breath and I don't want to be one of them and not anything else -then grab my wallet and step outside. It's hot, and the sun beating down on me feels good. It was so cold in America I'd forgotten that places could actually get this warm. Well, thank god for Italy, or else it would be too cold to breathe on this planet!

I meander along to the gelato place, hands in my pockets and scowl on my face. If I scowl enough, random strangers won't try to talk me up. Fuck, I can't even count how many times some random bitch has come up to me and asked for my number. I mean, seriously? You don't even know me!

I walk into the gelato place and look around for Antonio, trying not to seem as if I'm anxious to meet him or something.

"Lovino!" he says, just loudly enough to be heard over the bustle of all the customers. "Over here! I've saved you a seat!"

I make my way over to him, trying not to turn bright red with embarrassment as the lady who dishes out gelato-I've come here so often over the years that we're good friends-glances at Antonio and then gives me a lewd wink. Fuck, this is not going to go well at all. I should have stayed home and watched Titanic or something.

I sit down across from him, trying not to look at him while still looking at him so that he gets the feeling that I don't want to be here but I don't necessarily not like his company. Or maybe that I don't like his company but want to be here. Wait, what? Ugh! Fuckitall!

"So.." I begin to start, but before I can finish he bursts into, um, talking, about something. Maybe his new apartment? Or, um, dinner last night? Or maybe breakfast this morning, or tomatoes-wait, what, he got a tomato plant?

"We have a whole tomato garden!" I interrupt. "We have at least fifteen plants!" I smile evilly at the astonished look on his face.

"I want to see!" he begs. "I love tomatoes soooooooo much!"

I shrug nonchalantly. "Well, I can probably have you over sometime... I mean, just to, like, see the gardens, nothing else..."

He beams happily at me. "That would be so fun! Would you really let me come over?"

"Sure..." I don't know what else to say. Fuckit. "So, do you want to get some gelato now?" I say in a last-ditch attempt to breathe some life into our conversation.

"Of course!" he says happily. We get up and I show him exactly why this is my favorite gelato place: the gelato bar. It has just about every imaginable flavor of ice cream ever. And I mean ever. My personal favorite is the tomato ice cream. It's actually a big seller, mainly because I stop by everyday after school and get around two scoops and cover them in sprinkles and whipped cream. I know, it sounds disgusting, and it is, just a little, but it's also delicious enough to want to eat forever.

We both get tomato ice cream with sprinkles (something that makes the lady at the register elbow me in the arm to catch my attention as she makes... _interesting_ gestures with her hands) then go back to our table and sit down to just, I dunno, chatter. Well, he chatters, and I kind of listen while trying to pretend that I'm not actually listening because I don't give a fucking damn what he says!

"So, do you come here a lot? That lady over there keeps looking at you like she knows you." Antonio says out of the blue.

I whirl around in my seat and give Maria-I know, classic Italian name-my best death glare. She grins at me, flipping her long hair over her shoulder, then turns back to her customers.

"Yeah, I guess I do kinda come here a bit..." I mumble into my lap. Fuckit, I just can't look this guy in the eyes. Not that it matters. I mean, I don't even like him.

"Oh, then we should meet up here again! I've never had tomato ice cream, and it's delicious!" He gives me a happy smile, and I feel my face heat up.

"Y-yeah..." I agree. "Maybe..."

I can practically _feel_ the guy smiling, and it ticks me off. Why is he smiling? He can't just smile all the time-what if his face sticks that way? I mean, everyone would think he's weird-and what about when he falls asleep? Would his face stay that way? The thought worries me for some reason.

"Stop smiling!" I order. "What if your face sticks that way?!"

The smiles drops off his face to be replaced by a thoughtful expression. "I think that if my face stuck this way, I would be happy, because then I would be smiling at everyone." He starts smiling at me again, and it makes me squirm around a bit in my seat. I'm not used to people constantly smiling at me-or rather, smiling at me _at all_. No one wants to smile at someone with a constant glower.

"W-want me to show you around now?" I ask, changing the subject.

The room seems to brighten as his smile grows wider. "Of course! I'd love to walk around the city with you!"

I feel a blush rising to my face at his words and I quickly turn away so that he can't see it. "L-let's go then." I stammer, hating myself for not being able to speak to him without feeling embarrassed. I get out of my seat and walk out the door, trying to resist the urge to look behind me to make sure he's following. What do I care if he's following? Damn fag, being such a fucking pain in the ass!

Once I'm out of the gelato place, I wait for him to catch up to me, because I don't want to lose him, no matter how much I act like I do. Oh wait, that sounded awfully romantic-I mean that I don't want to lose him somewhere in the city! Jesus fucking christ! I resist the urge to bash my head into the nearest wall so that I can regain my senses.

"Follow me," I say gruffly once he catches up to me. I play the part of the perfect tour guide, pointing out all the interest spots, and he _oohs_ and _aws_ at all the right spots, the perfect tour guide...ee? Whatever... I don't even care. I wouldn't have even brought him along with me if I hadn't been wanting to walk around the city anyways- wait, what? I was just about to watch "When In Rome" when I suddenly decided to just invite him out-AGH! WHAT'S WRONG WITH ME?!

"And here's this really popular pizza place-I don't get why everyone likes it, my brother can make much better pizza-"

"You have a brother?" Antonio asks, knocking me out of my thoughts.

"Hmm? I have two, I guess. Kinda." Oh shit. Why'd I say that? Now he's gonna ask-

"What do you mean, 'kinda'? Is it one or two?"

"Well, two, I guess, but I only see one of them over the summer."

"What? Why? Is he sickly?"

I snigger at this. I can't help it; the thought of Feli being sickly is about as likely as hot icicles or, um, healthy Americans. "No, he's not sickly, he just lives with our parents in the US." I try not to laugh. "There's no way he could ever be sickly. I swear, I don't even think he's ever been _sick_ before, let alone_ sickly_."

Antonio frowns slightly. "Well then, why don't you live with your parents instead of your... um, Nonno, you said?"

I squinch my eyes shut so that I don't burst into tears. _Fuckitall, might as well tell him, I guess..._ "Well, my parents just... didn't want us, I guess, so they sent us off to live with Nonno." I keep my voice calm and nonchalant, and I make sure not to look him in the eyes, because I can just tell that he's the type of person who would wrap their arms around someone who's feeling sad, and if that happened to me, well, the walls would break, and I don't want that. Not at all.

"Lovino, that's awful!" he says, with feeling. Enough feeling that it makes me want to wrap my arms around myself and cry. I resist the urge and just stick my hands in my pockets. I don't want to be freaking out, especially not in the middle of Rome, and _especially_ not in front of Antonio. I want him to think that I'm, like, cool or something.

I shrug. "Yeah, well, I guess. I'm used to it, though. I mean, it's been ten years since it happened." _And I still cry every time I leave them._ "I'm over it." _And I still want to call them "Mom" and "Dad" instead of Robert and Alisa._ "So it's all cool. Don't worry about it."

He gives me this look. At first I think it's pity, and then I realize it's not, it's, like, compassion, or maybe empathy, and I wonder why he'd feel like that, and then I realize that looking at him makes butterflies dance around in my stomach-and they're not even that good-so I stop looking at him, turning to kick a nearby pebble.

"S'yeah." I say lamely to try and get rid of this goddamn tension.

And then suddenly he smiles again, and I forget why the sun even exists if he shines brighter than it could ever dream of shining.

"Well, let's continue, shall we?" he asks, reaching out and grabbing my hand. I feel a rush of heat run through my face, and I'm just glad he's facing forwards because I would be so completely and totally embarrassed if he saw me looking like this.

"Where should we go next?" I ask him, straying slightly off the tour-guide path. I really, really,_ really_ want to show him my favorite place in this whole city, but I'm not sure if I want to share it. I'm also not sure he would be able to appreciate it properly.

He shrugs. "I don't know. I don't know anything about this city. You tell me where we should go!" Jesus christ, what is with him and gorgeous smiles. Is he trying to rot my brain with his sweetness? If so, he's doing a good job, because it's definitely working.

I suddenly decide that I might as well take him to my spot.

"Follow me," I say, keeping hold of his hand _purely_ for the sake of showing him around-it's definitely not that I like the warmth it spreads through my veins, or the way my hand seems to fit so perfectly into his.

"Where are we going?" he asks after a while, as if it has only just occurred to him.

"Oh, just somewhere." I explain. "It's just this place I like."_ And I can't believe I'm showing it to you. I only just met you yesterday! What the fuck am I doing?_

"Oh, okay!" he says brightly, as if I've just answered his question. Oh fuck, this guy is going to kill me with his niceness. Suddenly I have no doubts about showing him my spot.

"Well, here it is." I say, holding my arms out weakly in a kind of presenting way... but not really... "It's, uh, not much, really, but I kinda like it..." I'm cut off by his gasp of wonder. He looks like a small child who's just seen the North Pole.

"Lovi, this is the best!" he says. "I've never seen anything so wonderful!"

"Um, I guess-wait, what? Who the fuck is Lovi?" I demand, glaring at him.

"Hmm? Oh, that's your new nickname!" He beams at me.

"O-oh," I stammer, looking away. My god, I cannot _stand_ this man's smile. It's too... too... _perfect!_ Instead of looking at him, I turn to inspect my vineyard.

Well, I guess it's not _my_ vineyard, but I feel like it is. I don't know what crazy person had the idea, but someone decided, "Hey, what the fuck, let's make some wine right smack dab in the middle of Rome!" It's not a particularly big or grand vineyard but it's, you know, a quiet place to bring a book and just sit in the sun and be peaceful.

...Which is why I just can't _believe_ that I'm showing it to this guy! I just _know_ he'll show up whenever I'm trying to relax, interrupting me with mindless chatter and nothingness and-I don't even know, but I know that I won't like it. Dammit! Why am I so fucking stupid?

"Is this your favorite place in the city then?" asks Antonio, looking at me curiously.

"Y-yeah... Well, besides our tomato garden, of course."

He nods. "You must really like the outdoors then." he remarks.

"N-no, not really..." I mutter, my face heating up. "It's my brother who likes the outdoors, not me."

He cocks his head to the side. "Well then, what do _you_ like?"

"M-me? I-I dunno. No one's ever asked me that before."

He frowns. "Why not?"

I scuff my foot into the ground. "I dunno... they just never do. Everyone just always asks my brother."

"Well, I want to ask you." he says almost as if he's pouting about it. I feel my face turn bright red.

"F-fuck no! I'm not telling you!" I snap, even though I want nothing more than to tell him.

"Come on, Lovi, you can tell me!" he wheedles. "Really, I won't tell anyone or make fun of you or anything. My lips are sealed." he says gravely, pretending to pull a zipper across his mouth. I can't help but laugh at this, and he looks surprised. "What was that for?" he asks, sounding kinda shocked.

"Nothing! Fuck off already! Bastard..." I hope my face isn't as red as it feels.

"Lovi~! You're so cute! You're red like a tomato!" he cries happily. "_Mi tomate querido_!"

"I-I am not! Shut the fuck up! And what did you just say?"

"Nothing~!" he says, smiling like the cheeky bastard he is.

"Nothing my ass! What'd you just call me, stupid tomato bastard! Tell me or I'll beat it out of you!" I yell half-heartedly. He just laughs like, somehow, he knows that I don't mean what I'm saying. I'm surprised that I don't mean what I'm saying, just a little bit. I really don't hate this guy at all. Maybe it's because he took an interest in me, and didn't bypass me on his way to my brother, like everyone else always does.

"So, Lovi, are we going to go anywhere else?" he asks happily, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet.

I blush again. "Y-yeah... Um, let's go this way now, and I'll show you this really great furniture store-it's got the softest beds ever, and I like to go over there and just lay on them until someone kicks me off..."

* * *

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

* * *

By the time I get home it's dark already, and I'm pretty sure Nonno and Romeo are asleep. I go into the kitchen and make myself some toast-I haven't eaten since that tomato ice cream-and then walk up to my room to change and write a little bit. I sit in my bed and begin editing one of my newest chapters. I've been posting my book on the internet for a while now, and I have quite a following.

Halfway through my editing the door to my room opens to reveal a sleepy, sad-looking Romeo. He is, as usual when he sleeps, wearing nothing but sweats, and his awkward, fourteen-year-old body looks strange holding a big black teddy bear, the only present he ever got from our parents. I close my laptop immediately, setting it on my bedside table, then pat the spot next to me. He shuffles slowly over, then lays down next to me, snuggling into my pillow. I gently run my fingers through his soft, dark hair and feel sorry for him. He was only three when our parents decided to leave us here in Italy, and he barely remembers them. He's never gone back for a visit either; he refuses to see my parents, and they, as far as I know, don't care whether or not he comes. The only thing he has to remember them by is his teddy bear. It's getting pretty worn. I think it will break soon. I wonder what else will break with it.

Once he's fast asleep, I grab my computer again. I get all settled in and ready to go, and then find that I just can't bring myself to write anything about this story, not now, not when my baby brother's laying next to me because he's homesick. With a sigh, I set my laptop back on the table and lay down next to Romeo. Fuck, school starts in a week. Well, at least I'll be seeing my friends tomorrow. That'll be something, I guess.

* * *

**A/N Okay, so, about the posting of chapters: Once a week, sometime during Saturday. To be smart and save time and planned-out shtick like that (I know right, impossible! XD) I have written about to chapter five of this-and revised, edited, all that goodness-before posting it. Because... um, just because, I guess. No real reason. I just wanted this to be super planned-out and stuff-which for me means that I just wrote it all and then rewrote what needed rewriting. Not important things like, y'know, the number of chapters or, like, plot... XD So yeah, read, review, follow, favorite, whatever. But just keep in mind: if you do any of the sideways (since they're not above XD) then you can MAKE YOURSELF SOME BACON. XD See, it's a good deal, peoples. You get bacon, I get reviews. It's great, seriously. XD**

**And, about the Ed Sheeran quotes above each chapter... what can I say? I'm Sheerious. XD Sorry, it's a Sheerio thing, because basically I'm a total Ed Sheeran fangirl, obsessive, I know his birthday and I won't tell you any more because I don't want to scare you. XD But yeah, this is basically a challenge to myself to see if I can pull through a hopefully around twenty chapter or more fic with an Ed Sheeran song quote above each. Plus, it's advertising; I'm hoping eventually you'll get curious about him. XD**


	3. Why I Don't Have Friends-

**Michelle: Seychelles**

* * *

**Why I Don't Have Friends-They're Devils In Disguise**

* * *

_"I'm gonna pick up the pieces, and build a lego house / if things go wrong we can knock it down."_

_ Ed Sheeran, "Lego House"_

* * *

I am woken up at nearly five in the morning by Romeo jumping around like a crazy person.

"_Fratello, fratello, destarsi!"_ he cries, jumping around on my bed like a monkey.

"Romeo, what the fuck are you doing?" I shout, opening my eyes just enough to locate a pillow to throw at him. He laughs and dodges it.

"_Fratello_, Nonno says it's time for you to get up!" he yells. "Serves you right, too, since you never, ever get up before eleven during the summer and I'm forced to get up and eat breakfast and shower and-"

"No one's forcing you, asshole! Jesus, you only do it so that you can go chat up girls and shit like that- fucking mother of Christ, why can't I just sleep-"

"Lovino~! Don't say things like that!" Nonno calls from downstairs.

I take in a deep breath and yell for him to fuck off. Then I shove Romeo out of my room, lock the door and try to go back to sleep, which is impossible with my fucking little brother dancing around screaming and yelling in front of it while banging on pots and pans. Jesus Christ, I'm so fucking ready for University...

When I finally drag myself out of bed, it's not even eight yet and I feel just about ready to buy a goat and use it as a sacrifice for a demon summoning. I stagger down the stairs and into the kitchen to find Nonno and Romeo bustling around the kitchen like the happy morning people they are. I hope that I look like those people in animes and cartoons, where they have a dark blue-and-black aura behind them and look like a ghost who's going to kill someone. Evidently I don't, because they just greet my happily and ask if I'd like an egg with my pancakes.

"Pancakes? Since when do we eat pancakes?" I half-ask, half-moan. I throw myself into a chair and look at the table, silently asking it to just kill me already. It doesn't, so I kick it, but gently, so that I don't break my fucking toe fucking off, fucking fuckers.

"Since now!" Nonno says cheerily. His happy tone makes me want to slam my head down on the table and cry.

"And why do I have to be up today?" I groan. "Why can't I just sleep like a normal person?!"

Nonno stops, considering. Then he shrugs. "I dunno. Just because, I guess."

I just stare at him. Then I heave myself off of the chair. "Good bye," I tell them as I zombie-walk to the stairs. "I'm just going to throw myself out the window now. Don't worry about me, I'm sure God will send down a kind angel to tell you how I'm doing in Purgatory."

"Lovino~!" Nonno tackles/hugs me from behind before I can even put one foot on the stairs. "It's time for breakfast! Don't worry, it'll be fine! Guess what?! We're going before-school shopping! Isn't that just the best?!"

I collapse onto the floor. "Go. Die." I tell him, curling myself into a ball and covering my eyes with my arm so that I don't get the sun in my eyes.

"Lovino, get your shit into gear!" Romeo yells from the kitchen. "Stop being such an asswipe!"

"Language!" Nonno calls back to him.

"Fuck off, you cock-sucking dickwad! When I get my hands on you, I'm going to castrate you and have you fuck yourself with it, you fucking-!"

"Lo-_vi_-no!" says Nonno, sounding extremely affronted. "If I hear another word out of either one of you, I swear I'll hang you both in the basement by your toes!"

"Shut up old man!" Romeo calls from the kitchen. "It's not like you have any authority over me, you can't even cook better than I can-"

"WHAT WAS THAT YOU JUST SAID, YOU LITTLE FUCK?" yells Nonno, running into the kitchen to give Romeo the mother of all noogies. While they're both distracted, I slink up the stairs and hide under the couch in our "drawing-room", which is where we make the people who come to see Nonno about work wait while we eat cookies in the kitchen- hey, we've got to get our kicks somehow, right? Hopefully by the time they've realized I'm gone I'll already be fast asleep.

* * *

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

* * *

When I wake up again, it's only nine and Nonno and Romeo are calling for me all over the house. I groan, heave myself lazily out from under the couch, then walk down the stairs, knowing that I'm probably totally and completely covered in dust bunnies. I throw myself into a chair by the table- again -and then wait for them to finally come back down here and find me. I mean, I'm not going to actually tell them where I am. They just made me wake up early during summertime! Awful! The humanity!

After a while, they finally show up in the kitchen, looking as if they're about to call the cops. As soon as they see me, calmly drinking coffee and eating a slice of buttered toast, they start freaking out and trying (not to mention failing) to cuss me out to which I respond in kind. It's a good thing our house is kind of far away from our neighbors', because otherwise they'd complain and then we'd be cussing them out too, and we really don't need any practice.

When we're done, we all get dressed properly- and I shower, because, ew, dust bunnies are not in style right now -and then we leave the house to go to our favorite clothing store. We're Italian, and so we always have to look our best and be in style. It's very important, you know. Well, at least to me and Nonno; Romeo just comes with us to flirt with pretty girls. So, while Nonno and I spend nearly two hours combing the racks for clothes that are in style yet still cheap, Romeo wanders off to the girl section and just stands around, searching for his prey. I honestly don't know what makes the girls talk to him. If I were them, I wouldn't talk with someone like Romeo, who's obviously searching for them. I think I'd talk to someone like Antonio, who just seems too happy to want to do anything but be your best friend forever.

Not that I'd ever talk with a boy, anyways. I mean, I'm not, like, gay or anything.

When Nonno and I are completely done, we collect our little lover-boy- sometimes I hope his heart gets broken like his namesake's -and then go on back home. Nonno sticks all our new clothes in the wash and I spend the hour or two before I'm meeting Michelle and the others writing. I haven't been paying much attention to my book lately, and I get the feeling that it's lonely and a little bit angry at me. Yeah, I know, I'm weird and I give my book its own little personality, but whatever, fucking deal.

About fifteen minutes before I have to meet my friends, I manage to move my ass away from my desk and grab my wallet, then leave a little note before disappearing into the city. I love walking around the city by myself. Nobody knows me and nobody pays any attention to me, and I feel invisible, but in a good way. It's like I don't have to put on this I'm-absolutely-okay-thanks face, I can just pretend that I actually _am_ okay. It's relaxing and gives me a sense of freedom that I really, really need.

After a couple of minutes of aimlessly walking, I begin to make my way slowly, relaxedly towards the little café we're meeting at. When I get there, they're all already sitting at our usual table in the back. They wave ecstatically at me until I make my way over, sliding in next to Michelle, who smiles warmly at me. Eliza and Bella wave their joined hands together, Bella grinning rather wickedly, Eliza fingering the camera around her neck and checking out the other occupants of the café. Michelle and I give her a joint look, and she sighs and hands over the camera.

"So, how was your trip to America?" asks Bella excitedly. For some reason they always want to hear about America. I don't know why-i t's not a very interesting place -but they seem to find it fascinating and exotic and all this other shit that I don't understand.

In answer, I shrug. "It was nothing much. My brother and I explored New York a bit, but his parents wouldn't let him stay out for too long or go too far." I've told them that Feli, Romeo and I were all from the same parents, but adopted when our parents died, and somehow Feliciano got separated from us and his parents don't want to give him up. It's a better story than the real thing- that I was abandoned because Feli's just so much nicer than me.

Michelle gives a wistful sigh, and her dreamy expression is mirrored by her cousin Bella. "I wish I could come with you to New York." she says. "Oh, just imagine the adventures you could have in a big city like that!" Michelle was raised in a small town by her parents, for a while, but mostly her older brother and teacher at my school, Francis Bonnefey. The guy is a fucking pervert, to put it politely, and the fact that he also goes just about any ways possible except incest- thank god, because Michelle still lives with him -makes him, like, a quadruple threat or something. Seriously, you may think I'm kidding, but one time Michelle filmed the guy- from a safe distance -while he was drunk and then showed the footage to me. All I'm willing to say is that I feel sorry for the poor potted plant that somehow grabbed his attention. I hope they put it in therapy, because Francis did some things to that poor bush that no living being should have done to it. Ever.

Eliza shrugs her agreement, then her eyes brighten as she gets a sudden notion. "I'd rather go to _Paris_!" She says Paris the French way, which makes Bella give her this adoring, lovesick, I-really-want-to-kiss-you look, which makes me quickly look to Michelle, who is also ignoring her cousin and cousin's girlfriend. It's a little awkward meeting up with a dating couple. Somehow you always feel like a third wheel, even if there are four of you.

"Michelle, did you go to France this summer?" I ask politely, trying to ignore the looks Eliza and Bella are giving each other.

Her eyes light up and she nods eagerly. "Oh, yes, I did! I went back to my old town, where I used to live, you know, and I saw some of my old friends. One of them gave me this!" She happily pulls a little fish-shaped stuffed animal out of her shoulder bag and looks at it adoringly.

"It's just a fish," I tell her, feeling like a dick but determined to share my true feelings on the matter.

"It's not just a fish," she tells me with a pout. "It's a cute little goldfish and I love it!"

"Well, I just don't see what's so good about it," I tell her, trying to keep the peace.

She flips her hair over her shoulder and looks away from me. "Well, you can go die then."

I roll my eyes, knowing that if I really did die she'd freak out.

Eliza giggles, probably wishing we hadn't confiscated her camera. "You two need to, like, get hooked up or something." She tells us gleefully. I feel my face begin to heat up.

"Nah," Bella says, leaning back in her seat like she's some old pro. "I don't think they're good for each other. I still think that my little cousin should find a rich guy who can cook so that she doesn't have to worry about a thing."

I don't point out that while I'm not particularly rich- it's Nonno who has all the money -I can cook. I just don't think it would help my case at all.

After a while, we settle down on the subject of a new movie that's coming out that looks kind of okay, if you ask Michelle- but she's easily impressed -and looks extremely cheesy to me. We order some lunch and spend an hour or two gossiping about who the new teachers will be this year- a whole load of them retired and were fired over the summer, and we all want to know if anyone interesting is coming along, a fact which they bother me mercilessly about, since Nonno owns the school and all. It's this huge private school thing with dorm rooms and shit, and people come from all over the world to attend the famous Vargas Academy. I know, super lame and shit.

And then, kind of out of the blue, the bell by the door rings loudly as the door is opened. I turn to see who it is and, who is there but Antonio Carriedo himself! I see his eyes light up as he notices me and I shake my head no, telling him not to come bother me right now. He looks confused for a moment, then smiles at me and turns away. He walks up to the counter and asks for directions to a grocery store anywhere, and I breathe a sigh of relief as I turn back to my friends. Thank god they didn't notice me looking at Antonio. They were too busy checking him out. It's not often we get new people in this little café; it's super out of the way and no one knows about it.

"Who's that guy?" Eliza asks, wiggling her eyebrows at me and Michelle, the two single people of the group.

"I dunno," I say, trying not to sound too grumpy. "Who cares? He's just some guy."

Bella gives me a look. "No, not really," she tells me. "He's hot. As in, if I weren't lesbian and in a relationship, I'd be chatting him up right now." She looks him up and down. "No offense, Lizzy."

"None taken, because I'd be doing the same," says Eliza. Antonio is, at the moment, flashing his too-gorgeous-to-be-human smile at the cashier and speaking in less than fluent, slightly accented Italian, and it's... extremely sexy, at risk of sounding gay. Especially since he's wearing extremely well-fitting jeans. I mean, really, no one should look that good in jeans. No one.

"What do you think Lovino?" Eliza asks suddenly, turning to me with an evil smile. I feel my face heat up, seeing as how I was just checking him out. "About what?" I ask, trying to seem innocent. "That guy? I dunno. He's a guy."

She rolls her eyes. "Wait, he's a guy? I had no idea!" she says sarcastically. "I mean, what do you think of him? He's not from Italy, as far as I can tell, and I don't know why he's here. School?" Her eyes sparkle. "You don't think he's a new student at our school, do you?" she asks suddenly. Michelle starts looking excited at this. She's so easily impressed at everything. She's probably thinking that it's fate that he stepped into this coffee shop, and that he'll be her Prince Charming and sweep her off her feet, blah blah blah.

"I don't think he's a student." I tell them. "He looks too old to be a student."

"A teacher then?" asks Michelle, looking even more excited. Oh great, now it's forbidden love.

"I think he just moved here, end of story." I grump. "Who even gives a fuck?"

"We do!" Eliza cries. "He could be your future boyfriend, Lovino!"

"I'm not gay!" I growl at her. "And fuck you for sticking to it!"

"It's okay to be homosexual, Lovino." Bella soothes. "I would know. You don't have to worry about getting pregnant, for one thing." Michelle blushes.

"I'm leaving," I say dully. "If I'm around you people any longer I'll kill someone." I shoot Eliza a look. "Probably you." She gives me a super fake gasp, then smirks at me.

"Bye!" Bella calls happily. "You're a third wheel anyways!"

"You're an asshole!" I tell her, flipping her off as I pick up my coffee, which is in a to-go cup. "Go back to Belgium, bitch!" She just giggles at me as I storm from the café, leaving Michelle looking after me with worry in her big brown eyes.

I'm on my way home to our tomato garden when I hear running footsteps behind me. I turn around, expecting Michelle, but instead see Antonio. He smiles and waves when he notices that I've noticed him, and my face heats up almost of it's own accord, and I grudgingly wave back.

"Lovi!" he says once he's finally right in front of me. "That was so weird! I walked into that café to ask for directions and then I look over and there you are, with your friends or something! Wow, that was the funniest thing ever! I never thought that I'd run into you on accident, Lovi! Especially not when I was lost, and especially not when you were with your friends! Did you have fun?"

I feel like covering my ears so that I don't fall in love with his beautiful voice. "Um, yeah, did." I finally manage.

"Oh, good! I'm glad, because you didn't look like you were having that much fun to me, but I guess you really were."

I blush and try not to think about his ass, which has suddenly entered my mind again. "Um, well, I was having fun, so... yeah."

He smiles at me and my heart squeezes in a weird way. "Hey, Lovi, can we stop by a store real quick? Like, a grocery store, because that's why I went out today in the first place, to get flour and sugar and cinnamon and eggs and, well, food, but then I got lost."

Well, that was super un-romantic.

I roll my eyes at him. "Are you saying you don't have any food? You've just been eating at restaurants since you arrived here? Jeez, soon you're going to be fatter than a big, juicy tomato."

"Yeah, I know, and that's why I want to get stuff to eat~! I was thinking of making churros! Do you like churros? I do. They're almost my favorite food, besides tomatoes~!"

"I've never had churros before, dumbass." I tell him. "What even is it?"

He stops in the middle of walking to grab me by the shoulders and turn me towards him. "You are a poor, depraved human being." he tells me seriously, looking sad.

My mouth falls open in shock. I mean, I know most people don't like me, but no one's ever gone right out and said that I was a fucking depraved human being, and especially not in the middle of a crowded street while we're walking to get groceries, or something like that.

"I'm happy to be the first person to fix you!" And then he orders- orders! -me to direct him to the nearest grocery store and come home with him after so that I can eat churros. And, as if that wasn't enough, he starts happily singing "Fix You" by Coldplay, but in Spanish. What the fuck is with this guy? And why does he sing so well? He could probably be some famous acoustic guitar/singer type if he wanted to, especially with that easy-going smile and the fact that he's not exactly unattractive- to a girl, I mean. Not me, or anything. (And I'm definitely not thinking of how he looks in those jeans! Fuck you!)

I direct him to the nearest grocery, he buys all his shit, and then I direct him to his apartment, something that would make me very embarrassed if I were in his shoes, though he just smiles at me- and everyone else -and keeps calling me Lovi and "_mi tomate querido_" or something like that, which is something I get the feeling I don't particularly want to learn the meaning of. I just try not to hear the words, because whenever I do my face heats up annoyingly.

Once at his apartment, he presses me into service helping him make churros. First he makes a batch, and then guides me through another one, and then I make one by myself, which turns out pretty okay, all things considered, leaving us with way too many churros to eat by ourselves.

"Come on, _mi tomate_, just try this one and I swear I'll let you go home...!" he says brightly, waggling one of the delicious looking churros in front of my face.

"You sound like a fucking pervert, bastard. I don't want one!" My mouth is watering just thinking about it, but I won't try one, fucking dammit!

"Come on, Lovi~! It's delicious, I swear!"

I snort. "Well, of course you think it's delicious, you probably think everything is delicious! I'm not trying it, bastard!"

"Lovi, I swear, if you don't try this, I will never leave you alone ever again."

All the blood quickly leaves my face. "What?" I ask.

"I will follow you right to your house and I will sleep in your bed with you and-"

I wrench the stupid churro from his hands and take a bite, hoping my face isn't as read as it feels. "Fine, there, I took a bite, so don't follow me-"

"Noo, you have to eat the whole thing!" he whines at me, waving his finger at me like I'm a misbehaving child. I quickly eat the rest, then stand up, pretending that I don't want any more, even though I want nothing more than at least three more of the yummy delicious pastry things.

"I'm going home now!" I announce.

"Oh, wait!" Antonio cries before I can even take a step forward. He runs around for a couple of moments until grabbing a couple of paper plates from the counter and shoving more than half the churros into one of them, covering it with the other. "Take this with you and share it with your family! I think I remember you saying you had a brother and a _abuelo_, right? They can have some churros too, right? They're delicious enough!" He shoves the little package into my hands, then kind of shoves me out the door. "Bye bye, Lovi, see you tomorrow!"

"Who said anything about tomorrow, bastard?" I yell, resisting the urge to grab another couple of churros.

"Well, we keep running into each other, so I figure that we will continue with our habit! Maybe you can teach me how to make something Italian that's yummy, hmm?" he suggests, and though I tell myself it doesn't, the thought appeals to me greatly. Finally, that bastard will taste some real food instead of the Spanish shit he's probably been eating his whole life. Poor bastard. He's never had a good, home-cooked Italian meal before.

"Good bye!" I shout over my shoulder, refusing to admit that I will probably seek him out tomorrow.

* * *

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

* * *

When I get home, I try to sneakily stick the churros that I didn't eat while walking over to the house into the fridge without anyone noticing but, sadly, Nonno is in the kitchen and as soon as he sees me walk in, cradling a couple of paper plates like I'm sneaking drugs into the house, he holds out a hand and just looks at me. I hand him the plates and then look away as he takes the top one off to reveal around ten perfect-looking churros, the ones Antonio made.

"What's this?" he asks, picking one up. He sniffs it carefully before shoving nearly the whole thing inside his mouth. Instantly, his eyes widen and he smiles blissfully. "Wow, this is good. Where did you get it?"

"Nowhere," I say too quickly. "I'm going up to my room." I edge towards the door, but he stops me with one raised eyebrow. Damn him and his ability to stop you with just an eyebrow.

"Where have you been all afternoon?" he asks curiously, in that way that grandparents have that just makes you want to tell them everything before they kick you out onto the street.

"With Michelle," I answer. I shift slightly from foot to foot and try not to meet his eyes.

"Oh. Where did you get these? They're pretty good, even if they're not Italian."

"Some café or something," I mumble, trying not to seem as if I'm lying. Which I am.

"Lovino Vargas, don't give me that! You know Rome better than you know your own closet, and all things considered that's saying something! Why are you lying to me? Were you doing something wrong? I just asked one simple question, Lovino. I expect a truthful answer." I open my mouth to ask him why he's making such a big fucking deal out of this all of a sudden, but he continues right on over me with an exasperated sigh and an extremely caring smile that makes me sick to my stomach. "Won't you let me take care of you, Lovino? Please? I know you're mad at your parents, but I did everything I could to keep you five together-"

"This shit again...?" I say dully. How many psychologists have I seen now about this? Yeah, I fucking know I have abandonment issues, and no, I don't need fucking pills, because I already have a solution: don't get close to people and then they can't abandon you.

"Don't talk to me about this again!" I half-yell, bringing an awful, worried glare to his face. I whirl around and run up the million sets of stairs to my bedroom so that I can go be alone and calm and not have to worry about stupid, worthless things like parents and grandparents and brothers and- well, family in general. It's just all so stupid and awful- I mean, one year they're all acting like they care and the next you're stuck in Italy with your random grandfather you just met, and- you know what... let's just not even go there.

* * *

**A/N I like how Lovi practically became the mature one while hanging with the girls. XD**

**Oh, oh, if you review you get cake! :3 Homemade cake! I'm a good baker, guys! Review, and fav, and follow, and then you can get even more homemade goodies!**

**Oh yeah, also, I'll be updating this so that basically you will see it when it's Saturday my time, so sorry if it's not Saturday for you! DX**

**Also, for those of you that have a Tumblr account, I have one too! I'm epicfawesomesauce, in case you're interested. :3 See you next Saturday, guys!**

**(Hey, tell me if this seemed angsty to you, pleases! *beseeching look*)**


	4. Reality Checking In

**THANKS TO EVERYONE WHO HAS FOLLOWED, FAVED, OR REVIEWED, I LOVE YOU ALL AND I WILL GIVE YOU HOMEMADE INTERNET CARAMEL CORN (that my sister made) SO BE THANKFUL! *showers readers in caramel corn***

**Reality Checking In**

* * *

_"Pain is only relevant if it still hurts."_**  
**_ Ed Sheeran, U.N.I_

* * *

The next day I don't call Antonio like I had not-quite planned on doing, but expected to happen. I told myself it was because I just couldn't stomach his too-happy smile without bursting into flames, but really it was that I knew that one look at his face would have me crying into his shoulder, and I don't want that to happen. That damn asshole, he's making my walls crumble without even trying, and I don't even know how he's doing it. Or how to stop it, really.

The next couple of days consist of me avoiding Nonno like he's the plague, and Romeo wandering around in silent unease, wondering when the volcano will finally blow. He's always hated it when Nonno and I fought, and sometimes I feel bad for doing shit like this to him, but I just can't help it. Nonno is always trying to break down my walls and turn me back into something that can breathe, and I don't want that. It hurts too much to breathe if you're not breathing for anyone. He wouldn't know that though. He's always had someone to breathe for, but I've never had anyone except Feli, and he's not even really here. I mean, sure, I can reach him by phone, but not conveniently, and he doesn't really understand what's going on since he's not here, and there are some things that you just can't say over phone, that you have to say in person. Not that I want to tell him anything. I'm fine with my walls, and my not breathing, even if it does mean I'm lonely. It doesn't matter to me, as long as I'm not lonely enough to throw myself out of a- nevermind.

On the second day before school starts, I finally give in and call him. I'm sitting wrapped up in blankets on my bed, nervously staring at my phone. I finally convince myself to pick the damn thing up. My fingers shake as I dial the number and my hands tremble as I bring the phone to my ear. Suddenly my mouth is dry and I'm not breathing quite right. My chest is tightening and my heart is beating too hard, and I just feel like my soul is too big to fit comfortably in my body.

"Hello?" he answers in his usual way-too-fucking-happy tone. Even though it sounds super lame and possibly bromantic, his voice brings tears to my eyes. He sounds like he cares, oh fuck, he does, but I don't want him to care, because it gets messy when people care.

"Hey," I say weakly. "It's Lovino. I was wondering if you wanted to see my tomato garden now?" _Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck, he's going to say no, he doesn't want to see me after I've ignored him for so long, he never liked me in the first place, he thinks I'm annoying, he-_

"Of course!" he cries happily, nearly busting my eardrum. "I'd love to see you! And your tomatoes!"

"Oh. Cool." Suddenly there's a sick feeling in my stomach, possibly what some people describe as butterflies-though they're more like flesh-eating termites, if you ask me-and I feel like I might throw up.

"Where should we meet?" he asks happily. "And when?"

"Um... the gelato place. You _can_ you get there by yourself now, can't you? And, um, let's say twenty minutes, I have to hop into the shower-not because of you or anything, just because I haven't showered yet today-so yeah."

"Okay, Lovi," he says with a chuckle, making me blush. "Well, see you in twenty minutes then!"

I hang up my cellphone and throw it under my bed. Too. Fucking. Happy. I cover my head with my pillow. Maybe it will be a bit longer than twenty minutes...

* * *

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

* * *

It's actually a bit shorter than twenty minutes. Meaning that I've calmed myself, taken a shower, and gotten dressed in an extremely tasteful outfit in just over ten minutes, leaving me with another ten to wander around for a bit before actually going to the gelato place. Oh fuck, I'm obsessed. Obsessed, I tell you! Fucking fuckernuggets!

I have to avoid Nonno on the way out though, or else the shit will hit the fan in a major way, and that never goes well. For one thing, we're both totally vengeful, so even if one of us wins the argument, the other will still take revenge by burning only their food and stupid shit like that-and yeah, I'm ashamed to say that I started it. Hey, I was fourteen and in the middle of my holy-shit-I'm-a-teenager-everything-is-awkward-now-fuckit stage, and, well, Nonno has never been all that mature, so it turned into an all-stops-pulled-revenge-of-the-Sith sort of thing. It was embarrassing to have friends over, honestly.

I sneak down the stairs, then leave the house the back way, going through the garden and hopping the fence behind it, landing in a small puddle in our neighbor's yard. Seriously? Who the fuck has a puddle in the middle of Rome _in the summer_?! Did they do it just so that they could get my converse wet? Fucking assholes!

I move through their yard to the street in front of their house, flipping off the old grandpa who lives there, notices me, and tries to spray me with the hose he's using to water his flowers, and then wandering off down the street humming some random song to myself. I'm feeling surprisingly optimistic today, which is weird, since school is starting and that always makes me depressed.

I get to the gelato place around seven minutes early. Antonio isn't there. I didn't expect him to be there. So why does my stomach drop to somewhere around the level of hell when I don't see him? Whatever, I'll just go talk to Maria for a bit, that's always interesting. She gets around, that Maria. I swear, she always has at least three flavored condoms in her pocket, and she's not even strictly straight.

"Oi! Maria!" I walk right on by the counter and into the back part, which has a sort of kitchen-ey place where they make the ice cream homemade, like I own the place. I don't, of course. Nonno's not that rich-well, actually, he is, but he wouldn't buy me an ice cream parlor, even if it is delicious.

"Lovi~?" she asks coyly, popping her head around the corner that leads to the back door. "Is that you?" She shoots me a lascivious grin.

"Don't call me Lovi!" I tell her in an extremely pissed off voice.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she says with a pouty smirk. "Only _Antonio_ can call you that, hmm?" She says "Antonio" like Michelle's older brother might say "anal sex," which brings an embarrassing blush to my cheeks.

"N-no, no one can call me that!" I insist. "Not even Antonio-I dunno why he does, and I dunno where he got it from-Hey, on a completely unrelated subject, do you know what... um..." I try to remember what Antonio is always calling me. "Um... '_mi querer tomate_' or something like that means in Spanish?"

"Do you mean '_mi querer tu tomates_?'" she asks, sniggering into her hand. "Because that means 'I love your tomatoes' which, if you look at it wearing my special glasses that filter everything to perverted-" She grabs a pair of glasses from her apron pocket and shoves them on. "-could mean that he likes your balls." she says flatly. I choke on air for a moment.

"H-he- th-that's definitely not what he's s-saying." I finally manage once I'm done dying.

She smirks at me, then shrugs. "Or, he could be saying '_mi tomate querido_' which means 'my darling tomato.' That's my only other guess."

I sigh in relief. "Oh, he's definitely saying the second thing-wait, WHAT?!" I shout when I finally catch on. She smirks at me as I recall all the times he's ever called me that-his darling tomato. Tomato, of all things! And his darling! And-oh my god, the man-eating termites in my stomach are_ really_ hating on me right now, let me tell you. Like, seriously, I'm going to have a couple big holes gnawed in my stomach soon if they don't calm down.

"Are you okay?" she asks with a laugh. "You look like you're going to be sick!" she says gleefully.

"Sick all over you, asshole!" I growl, wrapping my arms around my stomach. I don't know what this feeling is, but it's fucking pissing me off and I want it to go dig itself a hole and then die in it. Before it can, the little bell above the front door of the gelato bar rings as the door opens, and I instantly run towards it, knowing, somehow, that it's Antonio. When he sees me, his smile lights up the whole room, and he runs forward to hug me.

"Lovi, I haven't seen you in so long, how have you been doing?!" he asks excitedly, hugging me so hard that I have trouble breathing, between him and the butterflies-I mean, termites.

"It's been four days," I grumble breathily into his shirt, sounding a lot more sexy than I mean to. "It hasn't been a long time at all."

"But every day is a hundred years without you!" he says sappily, and it nearly brings tears to my eyes, considering how messed up I'm feeling right now.

"Suuuure," is what I finally settle on after trying and failing to find something clever, rude, or sarcastic to say that doesn't have anything to do with "Save it for the bedroom," which is something I feel would be grossly misinterpreted if said aloud in this little, slightly pervy (cough cough Maria cough cough) gelato bar.

"Are you going to show me your tomatoes then?" he asks happily. (Don't remember what Maria just said, Lovino!) I scuff my shoe against the tiled floor and wonder if it's safe yet. Romeo's probably been out of the house for hours now, since he doesn't like to be around when Nonno and I fight, as I've mentioned before, but Nonno... he's a tricky, stubborn bastard, and he might still be there just in case I decide to come back home. I check my phone real quick, then turn to him and say, "Want to have lunch first? I know this really good restaurant. It serves homemade food from all over the world, and it's really good."

He claps his hands together gleefully at this, smile growing somehow brighter. "Of course!" he says happily. "I'd love to get lunch with you!" I blush then look away from him. This guy... this guy... I don't even know what to say. He makes my stomach try desperately to eat itself.

"Well, okay then, follow me," I mutter quietly, shuffling from the gelato bar. He follows after me happily, humming some random, probably romantic, song under his breath. He's too happy, and too nice, and he pisses me off, and he's been calling me his darling tomato for a couple days now. He's just too... perfect. What's going to go wrong? What's going to get messed up and turn this whole thing sour? There's got to be something. My life does not go perfectly, or even semi-nicely. It just goes straight to hell, no stops, no happy moments, and no second chances.

Ever.

* * *

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

* * *

My not-date with Antonio goes well enough. We eat at this restaurant, make fun of the selection of Spanish and American food-which amounts to _paella_ and disgustingly greasy hamburgers-and order a couple random dishes from the French and Asian sections, both of which turn out to be fish. Which apparently neither of us likes. So we end up leaving the restaurant without eating anything and we wander back to my house. Thankfully, Nonno has gone out, so I heat up some leftover pasta in our microwave and we eat it outside among the tomato plants. Well, we kind of abandon the pasta halfway through and just eat the juicy, ripe tomatoes.

"Hey, Lovi," he says out of blue when I'm on my fifth or so tomato.

"Don't call me that," I say softly, not even meaning it anymore. Hearing him calling me "Lovi" or "_mi tomate querido_" makes me relaxed, calm, and fills me with this... _feeling_, of being cared for and loved and... I don't mind it so much anymore, I guess.

"Did you know that, because tomatoes originate from America, really all Europeans are slightly intolerant to them?" he says calmly, taking another bite of tomato. I freeze, pull the tomato from my mouth, then look down at it, unseeing. Then I throw the tomato at him.

"You're lying!" I yell. "I am NOT allergic to tomatoes!" I insist. "Not at all! Not even a little!"

He giggles as he wipes tomato off of his plain red t-shirt. "Suuuure," he says, smiling gleefully. "Don't try to deny it, Lovi. Just accept it: you can't ever eat another tomato again-"

I jump at him and wrestle him to the ground. "Take it back! I can too eat another tomato! I can, and I will!"

He giggles happily at me. "Nope! Never again!"

I scowl at him. "I can too! Look, I will right now!" I sit up, still on top of him, and reach for a nearby tomato. It's only then that I realize that I'm straddling his waist, and we both seem totally calm about it. Trying to ignore my speeding-up heartbeat so that it doesn't move to, well, _someplace else_, I grab the tomato and pull it off the vine, then look him straight in the eye and take a bite. Juice drips down my chin, and I know that I look extremely sexy, somehow, considering I'm a skinny seventeen-year-old eating a tomato. He watches me, smile fading slightly as I take another bite. And then suddenly I throw the tomato to the side and lean down towards him, and he slowly leans upwards until our noses are nearly touching, and I try to look him in the eye but I can't seem to tear my own eyes from his lips, and then he tilts his head slightly to the side and I lean forward just the tiniest bit and-

"LOVINO!" Nonno shouts from the back door of our house. "What are you doing?!" I jerk away from Antonio, then scramble off of him and gesture for him to leave. He raises an eyebrow at me and I point to the back fence, where I escaped from this morning. He nods at me once, then runs towards it even as I hear Nonno's footsteps coming towards me. I watch as he climbs the fence, looking lean, sexy, muscular-I won't even try to deny that I think that about him anymore-then turn as Nonno reaches me.

"What was that?!" Nonno yells at me. "Who was that?! What did I just see you doing?!"

I don't answer. Instead, I get to my feet and gather Antonio's plate of half-eaten pasta, then my own, and carry them into the house.

"Lovino, answer me!" Nonno yells. He sounds so angry. I can hear it in his voice; he's both angry and extremely worried. The last time he yelled at me like this was the summer I was fifteen, and that was for a matter far less serious than this.

I walk into the kitchen and set the plates in the sink, then slowly turn and walk up the bajillion sets of stairs to my bedroom. He follows me most of the way, still yelling and asking what just happened, but I don't reply, just lock myself in my room and curl up under the covers of my bed. I think back to what just happened and the tears start to trickle out, slowly at first, and then into full-blown sobs that I quickly cut off so that Nonno, who's still standing in front of the door, can't hear them.

What was I doing there? I was leaning down to kiss Antonio. _Antonio!_ He's older than me, and I don't even know him, and- he's a _man._ As in, _male_. As in, the same sex as me. As in, that means that I'm fucking gay! _Gay!_ I don't want to be gay! I want to be normal! I want my parents to like me as well as my brothers-both of them-and I want to be normal and not-gay and I'd rather not be hated by half the world just because I'm gay and oh fuck, Nonno saw me, what's he going to think? He's going to kill me, fuck, even though he's in love with his male German friend, he'll kill me for inviting some random guy over, especially when that random guy is older and stronger than me and who knows what could have happened and I don't want _him_ to hate me too! Fuck fuck _fuck,_ why does everything have to be so hard, why can't I just be the same as everyone else, why can't I just be nice, like Feli, who everyone likes better, why can't life just be easy?

And why do I still have to like Antonio, even after all this...?

* * *

**A/N First off, that thing about tomatoes is true.**

******Second,**** THE FEELS going on in this chapter! Well, towards the end, anyways. I mean, I was just so... ASDFGHJKL just writing this! Lovi was so close to kissing Tonio, and then Grandpa Rome showed up and ruined it all, and Lovi's left alone trying to just figure out life and... ARGH! Seriously. I hope you guys like this, because ****_I_**** sure as hell do, and I think you all should too.**

**Third, the next chapter will be a pretty key chapter, I think. Not quite for the rest of the story, but definitely for, you know, a bit of it. Well, maybe a lot. I dunno. I don't want to spoil it, but I will say that Lovi goes to school in the next chapter, and he finds out something that he really didn't want to know, and yeah, I think we all know what I'm talking about.**

**Fourth, Maria? From the ice cream bar? She's just some random person I made up on the spot who bought herself a personality and a small spot in the fic. Seriously, she came right off the top of my head, hence the generic, Italian female name. So yeah.**

**Fifth, this was the shortest chapter so far, but it felt like the longest to me. Like I said before... THE FEELS. ****Anyways, review, follow, favorite, all that goodness, and thanks to everyone who's done that already! I love you all! :)**

**(Also, have you heard "Darlin'" by Avril Lavigne? I was listening to that song towards the end of this chapter, and "Worlds Apart" by The Mostar Diving Club during the beginning and middle. Actually, here, links so that you can check these beautiful, gorgeous songs out: /watch?v=6cIUOiElGyQ That's "Darlin'" and here's /watch?v=ZbF2kUuZdKs "Worlds Apart". :)**


	5. Small Song (Not A Chappie!)

**A/N So, this is just a song I wrote that doesn't have anything to do with the story. I'll explain at the bottom.**

* * *

I, will stand outside your house

even if it rains

And I, will never leave until you deign to

speak with me

Oh I, will not just let you go like this,

And I, will stand outside-

* * *

I know I've made some mistakes and

I know I've done some wrong,

But darling I don't want this to end like this.

I know I'm done some shit, and I probably

made you cry

But darling I don't want this to end like this.

* * *

I know you don't believe me...

But I do have a kind streak...

And I know it won't make you feel better...

But I'm a stubborn asshole and I swear that I will

Stay outside until the bitter end.

* * *

**A/N Okay, so I'm reading this book called "Boy Meets Boy" by David Levithan, and it's SUPER GOOD. It's short- I'm halfway through and I only started a couple hours ago -but it's beautiful, and there's this one part where the boy, Paul, is trying to fix things up with another boy and he just screws things up, and then he just leaves. And I realized that... if I were him, I would, quite literally, sit outside that house, stewing in my stubborn anger, until the person I was waiting for deigned to speak to me, and then this song just came to me. Well, actually, the words "I'm a stubborn asshole and I'll stay outside" came to me, and then this song was born. By the way, it doesn't really have a melody- well, it does, but I won't remember it -so if you want to assign it a melody, I'm fine with that, but please, if you use it for anything, at least say that you got it from me, okay? I don't exactly want a song of mine stolen, because I WILL get pissed.**

**Anyways, that is all. *bows***


	6. The First Day Of School-

**The First Day Of School And Reasons To Miss It**

* * *

_"The world is harsh / I'm stuck in the dark"_

_ Ed Sheeran, "Spark"_  
_ (To be continued!)_

* * *

The last day before school starts is spent, for me, lying under the covers in my bed and wishing I had never left Italy earlier this summer, because if I hadn't gone to America in the first place I never would have had to go back to Italy and I never would have met Antonio on the plane, and then... and then I never would've turned gay! It makes sense, right...?

It doesn't, I know, but what does it matter? It works for me. Just blame it all on America. Actually, just blame it all on going to visit my parents-no, just blame it all on my parents, because it's all their fault anyways! Everything is their fault!

A knock comes from my door. I don't even bother asking who it is, I just shout at them to leave me alone. It's probably Nonno anyways, and I don't want to talk to him, at all, ever. I know he's disappointed in me. I can just tell. Sure, he may pretend that he's just worried about me, but I know he's disappointed I didn't turn out perfect like Feli. Even Romeo's better than me; at least he's not gay.

"Fratello?" comes Romeo's voice from outside the door, soft and slightly scared. He's worried about what I might do. He's disappointed in me too, probably. I'm no good as a big brother; I never have been, and never will be. "Can I come in?"

"No," I try to say, but my throat is too choked with tears. I'm so awful. I fail as a brother, as a son, a grandson, a person-probably the only person who likes me now is Antonio, and I don't... I can't... No, just don't think about him, Lovi! ...no. Lovino. Not Lovi. I told you not to think about him!

"Lovino?" comes Romeo once more.

I lift my head up from under the covers. "Just go away," I tell him tiredly. "Leave me alone." I hear his small, quiet footsteps retreat down the stairs and I feel a pang of regret. Throwing the covers off of myself, I run to my bedroom door, unlock it, and throw it open.

"Romeo, wait!" I call after him. He whirls around on the stairs, nearly losing his balance and sending a fearful tremor down my spine. "It's not going to be like last time," I tell him gently. "So don't worry about me. I won't leave you like Mom and Dad did, okay?" I meet his eyes and hold them, trying to reassure him. After a moment or so, he nods, then continues walking down the stairs, and I know I've failed at being a big brother. Again. I retreat back into my room and hide under the covers once more.

* * *

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

* * *

"I don't want to go to school," I tell Nonno. I'm standing in the doorway leading into the kitchen while Nonno makes breakfast.

"You have to," Nonno tells me without looking up. His voice is curt and rather unfriendly. He's mad at me. As usual.

"Why? It's not like I learn anything there."

"That doesn't change the fact that you have to go."

"Why go somewhere to learn if I'm not learning anything?" I ask. Maybe my voice is to flat and expressionless, because the slams a fist on the counter next to the stove. He looks... frustrated. In me. Fuck, why am I such a failure?

"Because you have friends there," he says finally. "You need to be around people your own age, Lovino. You can't just wander the streets of Rome and pick up strange men and-"

"Fuck you!" I yell, turning and storming from the room. "You don't know anything!"

"I know more than you think, Lovino Vargas!" He follows after me, yelling now too. "I know about being a teenager; I was one once, and it was much harder to be gay back then than it is-"

"I'm not gay!" I yell, running up the stairs and locking myself in the nearest bathroom. There are angry tears trying their damnedest to escape from my eyes, but I won't let them. I won't cry, not ever again. Only girls cry, right? So then I'd be gay if I cried-and I'm not fucking gay! At all! What's a good way to become not gay... I could... I could watch porn, I guess. Don't most teenage guys watch porn? Wait, does it make me gay if I don't?! Fuck fuck fuck!

"Lovino! Lovino, come out of there! Talk to me!" calls Nonno from outside the bathroom. He knocks urgently on the door and I'm just about to respond when my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out to see a text from Antonio. A whirlwind of emotion rushes through me: first shock, then joy, then nervousness, then fear, and then it's all replaced by an uneasy standing-on-the-edge-of-heaven-or-hell feeling. I manage to shove it down to the pit of my stomach, where it is easily ignored, and then actually read the text:

**You okay? Sorry about yesterday. :(**

I throw the phone across the room and into the bathtub, where it's cover pops off. As soon as I realize what I've done, I crawl speedily forward and pull the phone from the tub, snapping it's cover back into place. I check it anxiously to see if anything's broken and then quickly type a reply to Antonio, nothing more than: **I'm fine.**Then I wait with bated breath for him to reply. I feel like a three-year-old waiting for Christmas or something else important like that.

** Good! Will I see you today?**

Hurriedly, I press reply and say **Maybe.** In the school I go to, Vargas Academy, a school of Nonno's design, we usually stay in dorms on the school grounds because the school is a ways away from the city and people come from all over the world to learn there. But, Rome isn't that far away, and I can ask to drive Nonno's car, if I really wanted to see him. Wait! I don't want to see him! What am I thinking?! I somehow resist the urge to throw the phone out the window and instead stick it in my pocket.

"Lovino! Lovino, will you please answer me? Lovino!"

I get up with a sigh and walk to the door, pressing my ear against it so that I can hear him better. "I hear you, Nonno," I say softly. "I don't want to talk about it." I say curtly, before he can start talking to me again. "Just... just leave me alone for a bit, okay?"

"Lovino-" he starts, his voice all parental and caring.

"Just drop it," I say sharply. He hesitates for a moment, then sighs and moves away from the door. I reach for the knob and unlock it, then slowly walk out to have him envelope me in a hug.

"I love you, Lovino," he says softly into my hair. I don't return the hug, and I don't look him in the eyes, because I know that if I do I might start crying.

* * *

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

* * *

"School sucks," I moan to 're sitting in one of the many classes we share-why do we have so many, seriously?-copying the blackboard. Well, we're supposed to be copying the blackboard, but really we're just passing notes and interestingly pervy drawings back and forth between each other to see which one of us laughs first.

"It's true," she says, looking at me sharply. "But you could appreciate it more. Just because you're some rich guy doesn't mean you don't have to go to should be grateful."

"Bella, you're such a pity-party-pooper," I say, watching the teacher to make sure she doesn't come over and whack us with a piece of paper because we're talking.

"Well, it's a good thing then, because if I wasn't here who knows what you'd do," She draws a quick 10 on her piece of paper and then looks at me. I wince.

"You're so tactless." I tell her, absentmindedly planning out the next chapter for my novel in my notebook. "I wonder how you even have a girlfriend." She passes the piece of paper we've been writing on to me and I absently draw an extremely graphic picture that makes her clap her hand over her mouth in an effort not to laugh out loud. "I especially wonder considering your reaction to this picture." I say with a smirk. I shade the picture a little bit and she looks at me like, "Wow, Lovino. Just wow."

"Why are you so good at drawing?" someone behind me moans as he peeks at the picture. "That was just a doodle and it looks so erotic!"

I smirk. "I'm just naturally talented when it comes to this sort of thing." I try my best to make it seem as if I mean looking at erotic things in person and not just drawing them off of interesting manga. "Now fuck off, bastard." I turn back to face the front of the room to find the teacher giving me the stink eye. I give her a charming smile and blow her a kiss, and the rest of the class dissolves into teacher herself blushes because no one's ever had the audacity to flirt with her before, especially not in class, and I quickly turn and get rid of the piece of paper before she can come over and kill me for it.

Fuck, I really hate school...

Once the class is over, Bella and I part ways-a good thing, if you ask me, since it was starting to get a little tense between us-and I head to my next class, which is creative writing. I'm really excited, because our last creative writing teacher got fired over the summer for being an asshole-well, being an asshole to me, so I had Nonno fire him-and I wonder if the new teacher will be nice or awful or what. After all, I don't want to let just anyone read my short stories that I write just for the class-though I'll let anyone on the internet read my real story.

On my way there, I pause at my locker to grab a couple notebooks in which to write down any helpful information the teacher has to offer, and then I hurry back to the class. Sadly, even though my grandfather owns the school, I can still be late to class and all that bullshit. Life is so unfair. I open the door quickly, then nearly trip on the little step that leads into the room, for whatever reason, drawing all the eyes in the room towards myself. I swear under my breath at the stupid fucking step, why was it even put there, and then I look up. Time seems to suddenly stand still as I look to the teacher's desk and see a familiar gorgeous face, topped with familiar dark hair, holding familiar brilliant green eyes and familiar perfect lips that I nearly kissed two days ago. Those gorgeous eyes widen slightly as he sees me, and those lips part slightly in astonishment, and that man begins to move towards me, but before he can I step back over the threshold, falling down the step to land in an unsightly puddle on the floor. I scramble to my feet and then run back down the hallway all the way around the corner so that I can try to calm down and figure out what the fuck just happened.

Was that seriously Antonio? Antonio is my new teacher? My teacher?!

"Fuck," I mutter quietly to myself. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." It's like Fate or whatever's out there is bending the broken pieces of me to see how long it'll take before I truly break, completely into pieces.

I pull my knees up to my chest and try to explain it away. He's a sub. He's a student who was standing behind the desk as a joke. He's the school secretary. He's not my teacher. I met him on a plane and he said he was here for school. He must be a college intern. He's definitely not my teacher. Definitely.

"He's my teacher," I finally mumble against the uncomfortable pants that are my school uniform. "I should've known that this couldn't last. Only Feli's life is perfect. Mine's just perfectly awful." Tears start burning in the backs of my eyes.

"Lovi?" a sudden voice asks, nearly causing me to jump straight out of my skin. "Oh, it is you!" How can he sound so happy? Can't he hear the pieces of my heart breaking? "I thought it was you but I couldn't really see you because you left the room so fast so I asked the other students and they said that it was you, and-"

"Shut up!" I half yell. He looks down at me, seeming rather surprised at my outburst, then crouches down next to me, looking curiously into my face.

"Are you crying?" he asks, voice solemn. Well, solemn for him.

"N-no, bastard..." I mumble, trying to wipe my eyes without him noticing.

"I'm sorry!" he wails suddenly, wrapping his arms around me and trying to squeeze the soul out of me. "I didn't mean to- I should have asked what school you were going to, but I thought you were a college student, and I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

I shove him harshly away and try to catch my breath. "S-sorry doesn't cut it, tomato bastard!" I glare at him. "Just leave me alone, okay?!"

He looks at me with big deer eyes, all innocent and pet-me-I'm-just-a-cute-little-animal. "Have I ruined your day, Lovi?" he asks sadly, as if he can't think of anything worse in the entire universe.

"You've ruined more than my day," I say frostily, which is funny since the tears in my eyes are so damn warm. "You've ruined at least my whole week." I stand up then walk down the hallway, and I'm glad that he doesn't follow me, because I really don't want him to see me cry.

I walk quickly to Eliza and Bella's shared dorm room and throw myself onto one of their beds. They won't mind; half the time I stay with them during the school year anyways, so it's not like it's unusual. Even me skipping class isn't all that unusual, if I've had a bad day. Oh, but if they find me in here then they'll know I've had a bad and keep bugging me about it... I'll just have to leave before they show up.  
With that thought, I fall into an exhausted and thankfully Antonio-free sleep.

* * *

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

* * *

While I'm asleep, I have a strange dream. I'm in a plain white room full of plain white chairs. For some reason, I am both inside my body and watching myself from what seems to be the corner of the room. I'm waiting for news, hoping for good news, but expecting bad. At some point, someone comes in and tells me something, but I don't see their face, and I don't hear what they say. I'm not even sure they come. All I know is that I get bad news, and tears well in my eyes and begin to spill down my cheeks.

When I wake up, there are real tears streaming down my cheeks, and I feel inexplicably sad, though I have no idea why. Did I have a bad dream or something? I try to remember, but all I see is white. I'm just about to get out of the bed when the door to the dorm opens and Eliza come flouncing in, looking excited and happy to be alive, meaning she must've just whacked someone with her frying pan. The instant she sees me, her smile falls down to the floor, to be replaced by a worried expression. I wonder why for a moment, until I realize that there are still tears tracing down my cheeks.

"This isn't what it looks like," I start to say, but all that I manage is "this" before she has run over and glomped me, asking me what happened and if she has to go whack someone else with her frying pan for me. I squirm underneath her, wanting to tell her that no one has done anything to me when really Antonio kinda has, mostly by not telling me he's a fucking teacher.

"Lovino, why're you crying?!" she wails into my shoulder, acting as if she's the one who needs comforting, not me.

"I had a dream and I started crying, okay? In the dream, I mean. Fucking Christ, Eliza, why are you acting like this?" I try not to start crying for real. The fact that she's hugging me, like she really, really cares makes me want to either throw up or wrap my arms around her and cry.

She looks up into my face and says, "Yeah, sure. Why else are you crying, and how come you weren't in any of the other classes you share with Bella? Or Michelle?"

"N-no reason..." I mumble, looking away from her eyes. With my peripheral vision I see her roll her own green eyes.

"Right, sure," she says sarcastically. "I totally buy that, Lovino. Now tell me what actually happened or I'll hit you with my frying pan." She has this look in her eyes that lets me know that she fucking means it, and so I mumble out, "My brother called and said that he couldn't come for Christmas," I tell her. Feli doesn't usually come for Christmas, but Eliza doesn't know that, and she believes it, as far as I can tell.

"That's all you were worried about?" she asks with a derisive sigh. "You're so touchy-feely, Lovino."

"I am not!" I growl. "Now leave me alone. I'm tired." Tired of trying not to cry, that is.

"I'm not leaving you alone!" she says fiercely, wrapping her arms even more tightly around me as if she's conspiring with Antonio to squeeze the soul out of me.

Oh shit... why did I think about him... A tear squeezes itself out of my left eyes, then slowly, determinedly makes its way down my cheek to land in Eliza's hair.

"You need a friend to talk to, Lovino, and I swear on my porn that I will not tell a soul what you tell me." She makes it seems as if it's actually going to happen. It's not, of course. I wouldn't ever tell anyone something like this.

"Great, well, if I ever need someone to talk to, I'll make sure to find you," I tell her tersely, sitting up and shoving her away from me. "Until then, mind your own fucking business!" And with that, I stomp straight out of the room.

* * *

**Ack, I don't know what to do with this chapter! It's where the action REALLY starts, so I hope it's good! -_-" Anyways, review, fav, follow, and then you can get homemade pepperoni pizza! Or any toppings really, especially if you like cheese. I like cheese. SO YEAH! Review for pizza! :)**


	7. My Entrance Into Espionage

**Alli Braginski: OC, Alaska**

**Hero F. Jones: OC, America's little sister, Washington, Oregon, Montana and Idaho formed a new country**

**Edwin Tica: OC, Antarctica**

**Arc: OC, The Arctic**

**Mai: Taiwan**

**My Awkward Entrance Into Espionage**

* * *

_"I'm addicted to your touch"_  
_ Ed Sheeran, "Addicted"_

* * *

For the next couple of days, I avoid creative writing like it's the plague because, as far as I'm concerned, it basically is. There is nothing worse than that place, where- nevermind. I won't say. I said I wouldn't think about it anymore. So that's what I will do.

...

It's just...! I can't believe he...! I can't...! I...! Fuck it all, I don't give a fucking shit I'm just fine without him, it's not like I liked him at all anyways, he was just some guy, he was just some sexy guy who seemed like he cared, he was just the one person who seemed like he cared without _having_ to, he was just... just... too good. Both to be true, and for... _me_. I'm just going to have to forget him.

So that's probably why I find myself following him around school once free time has come around.

_Lovino, I don't even have words to express how disappointed in you I am,_ I tell myself as I quickly duck behind a corner as he turns around to wave at some student he knows. And then, _Who the fuck is that student, giggling at him like that. She doesn't even know him at all, what right does she have to wave at him like that?! I'm going to put her on my hit-list for when I join the mafia, so I ought to find out her name, and then I can-SHIT! Antonio!_

I run out into the hallway he was just in, running past the girl who half-screams as I rush by. I feel like I'm running so fast that her skirt billowed up like in anime, but it probably didn't happen. I screech around the corner and then quickly back pedal when I see he's barely thirty yards in front of me. I quickly hide behind the corner and try to catch my breath. Everyone in the hallway is looking at me strangely, but I just shoot them the bird and peek around the corner, jerking my head back when I see he's looking in my direction. I stand completely still, hardly daring to breathe, until I hear footsteps coming back down the hall towards me. I'm not sure if they're actually his, but I turn and run anyways, because I will _not_ be discovered, fucking dammit.

* * *

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

* * *

I'm not sure how long I tail Antonio through the school, but by the time he finally leaves to the dorm room he's staying at during school days (it's a weird setup; you stay at the school during the weekdays because it's easier, and then if you have a home in the city most people leave for the weekend- don't even ask, okay?) I feel like I've run at least three thousand miles. I'm sure I haven't really, but that's what it feels like, so fuck off. I lean against the wall next to his door and try not to start crying because, well, I just stalked my teacher for, like, three hours? I mean, that's... that's just... _awful_. Oh, fuck, what sort of human being _am_ I? What was it Antonio said the other day, before making me make churros with him? Something about being a horrible human being?

_"You are a poor, depraved human being,"_ Oh yeah, that's right. And then after that came:_"I'm happy to be able to be the first one to fix you!"_ Cue wonderful rendition of "Fix You" by Coldplay. In Spanish. God, even just something as stupid as_ that_ gets my pulse racing, and I'm not even gay! I'm _not_, okay, so the rest of you can go fuck yourselves! I slowly slide down the wall until I'm sitting against it with my legs pulled up to my chest and my arms wrapped around them. I bury my face in my knees to try to block out the light coming in through the infrequent windows of the dorms. This is so... sucky.

I sit there for at least ten or fifteen minutes, until someone gently taps me on the knee. I look up to see Eliza standing there, with her serious face on. "Lovino, we need to talk," she says grimly.

"Who the fuck's _we_?" I ask suspiciously. "I don't want to have to talk to the whole damn crew."

"Too bad, Lovino, hon. You need some help from the Vargas Cupids." she informs me gravely, drawing some weird symbol in the air with the pinky fingers of both her hands.

I groan and rest my head back on my knees. "No _thank_ you. The last time you tried to help me with a relationship, she ended up in the hospital, remember?"

She huffs. "That's only because you didn't jump out and rescue her! She wouldn't have gotten hit with that car if you'd just followed the plan!"

"_I'd_ have gotten hit with the car!" I say angrily, glaring up at her vengefully.

"_That was the point_!" she hisses fiercely at me. I lean back a little bit, then start looking nervously around for her frying pan. "Ugh, whatever, that doesn't matter right now. What _matters_ is that you just spent at least _three hours_ stalking your teacher, and as far as I know, you haven't been to his class since the first day of school! What's going on here, Italian?"

Oh shit. She just called me "Italian." Shit is going to go down if I don't tell her the truth. "I-I don't know why I did it, I just followed him!" I tell her hurriedly. Is that a flash of frying pan I see behind her...? "I-I met him on the plane coming back from America, and we kept in touch." I say quickly as I realize that what I said earlier wasn't nearly enough for her.

"Likely story," she says suspiciously. If she had had glasses, she would have taken them off to get a better look at me just now.

"It's the goddamn truth, I swear!" I raise my hands up like I have to prove to her that I have no weapons.

She sighs. "Fine, I believe you." If she had had glasses, she would have put them on before examining me once more. "But I'm going to need to hear the full story. _In detail_." She somehow makes that sound extremely perverted, which makes me blush slightly, even though I've never done anything perverted with Antonio in my life! Well, except for that one time in my tomato garden- no! I said I wouldn't think about it, fucking dammit!

"C'mon, Italian, we need to meet with the rest of my crew." She grabs me by the hand and pulls me to my feet even though I resist every step of the way.

"I don't _want_ to meet the rest of your crew!" I whine. "That one girl, Alli, or whatever her name is- she creeps me out! I mean, why is she so quiet all the time? And she looks like she's going to jump Hero or something. Ugh, and Arc and Edwin never stop trying to kill each other. It's so annoying! And why does Edwin always dress like a girl?"

"Stop procrastinating!" she says, dragging me along behind her as she heads off to their meeting place. "You're coming, and that's that! Don't make me use my frying pan!"

I quiet instantly. You do _not_ want to be on the receiving end of her frying pan. Well, actually, maybe I do... it'd sure help with this stupid obsession I've got... Eliza drags me nearly all the way to the other end of the school- damn her and her fucking club and their fucking location -and into the special, unused classroom that belongs to the Vargas Cupids. She shoves me through the door first, as if I'd try to escape if she didn't- not when that frying pan's around, I won't -then shuts and locks the door behind her, which wouldn't be bad if it wasn't for the fact that it can only be unlocked if you have the key, and she has the only one. Cue emotional breakdown. Now I have to spend time with these fucking over-the-top, completely insane, yaoi obsessed girls (and two guys, though one cross-dresses) who decided one day (probably when they were drunk or high or both) that they should help people with their love-lives by interfering and then filming whatever good stuff happens. And now they've made me their prisoner. Fuck my life.

"Okay, people, to order!" Eliza bangs her frying pan on a nearby desk like it's a gavel, nearly bursting my eardrums and causing all of the Cupids to giggle insanely- except for Arc, who's expression never changes ever. "We've got our newest victim here and we've got to figure out what he wants so that we can film the end credits- also known as sex -and then sell it online."

Well, at least they're willing to admit that I'm a victim. Though their motives make me want to commit suicide.

"So, first we must question the prisoner! Alli, Arc, that's your job!" Alli, a strangely looming girl with nearly white hair and skin and weirdly purple eyes, comes over to me and shoves me in a chair, pulling a random belt out from nowhere. My eyes go wide with fear- who knows what she's capable of, seriously -as she stretches it out as if testing it's strength. I can see Arc standing behind her, looking like her evil shadow, glaring at me as if all sins in the world were brought into existence with my birth.

"Hey, hey, no need for that." Oh, thank god! Hero steps in front of them both with her customary devilish smirk, turning around to aim it at me. "You're gonna tell us everything, arentcha?" she asks "sweetly." I nod emphatically- Alli's still holding that belt, and Bella's in the process of handing Eliza her camera, letting me know that they're going to do... _something_ to me.

"Okay then, Nat!" I wince as Natalia Braginsky- Alli's aunt who's the same age as her -steps forward, her ever-present bow perched atop her head like it's a demon in possession of the girl's body. Because no one's face can look_ that_ evil... can it?

"Loviiiiiiinooooo..." she sings with that look she always gets when she sees her brother. "I think you have something to teeeeeeell uuuuuuus..."

I nearly whimper, but I manage to choke it down. "I-I suppose..." I manage to say. I don't fucking want to tell them, but I kind of have to unless I want to be buried alive! Oh, wait, if that would mean that I don't have to deal with Antonio anymore, that'd be a good thing, right?

"Then teeeeeeeell uuuuuuuuus..." she whispers evilly. Suddenly Arc appears behind her, nearly making me scream. God, he is so fucking creepy! Why are his eyes all white like that?

"W-well, I was j-just following around Antonio! He's my creative writing teacher! I met him on the plane here from America and he left his phone number on my arm and we met up and- _I'm not gay_!" I end in a rush. I didn't even mean to say it. It just threw itself out of my mouth like it had an evil mind of it's own.

"That's not aaaallll-" Natalia starts, but Hero interrupts.

"Okay guys, that's enough. Let's cut the crap, okay?" Everyone in the room glares at her- except me -but she doesn't care. She is, in her own words, the most fucking awesome piece of beautiful heroic angel they have ever seen in all their lives, past, present, and future, and she commands their absolute loyalty. Total bullshit, all of it, but the one fact that cannot be denied is that she has a killer of a right hook and if she wanted to she could take one of the heads off of Mount Rushmore with just one or two, so when she says to cut the crap, you cut the crap unless you think you need a new head.

"Lovino, what none of them want to say is that we, as your friends, just want to help you get whoever you want, and if what you want is your teacher, then we will do that." Alli turns to glare at everyone behind Hero's back and they all chorus, "Yep, we'll do it." Somehow, it doesn't make me feel better. Sure, Hero means what she's saying, but the other six don't mean shit except the part about filming the "end credits."

"Fucking lovely," I say dryly.

They lock me in Eliza and Bella's room while they're planning. And by lock, I mean that they literally _lock_ me in. No joke. They also handcuff me to a bed, which I think is a little bit unfair- not to mention pervy. Thank god Hero took Eliza's camera away before she could take weird pictures of me...

And then they leave. They just leave me in here, handcuffed to a bed, all lonely and alone and depressed and pretty freaked out by my creative writing teacher! Uugh, why is my life so FUCKING STUPID.

I examine the handcuffs to see if they're loose or something, and then nearly start crying at the stupidity of Hero. _They're_ _fake handcuffs_. They're not even real. She let Eliza and Bella lock me up... _with fake handcuffs_. I don't know how I manage to think of my brothers as stupid when my friends could obviously win some sort of high-class award for stupidity, like... the Pulitzer Prize or something.

I'm about to press the little button that unlocks them (it'll take a while because my eyes are blurring with hopeless tears at my friends' stupidity) when my phone rings in my pocket. I can tell by the ringtone whom it is, since I only have... Hero, Nonno, Romeo, Bella, Eliza, Michelle, Hero, and Antonio in my phone and they each have their own ringtones. But anyways, it's Romeo who's calling. His song is this weird, Australian take on this classic Italian song from the fifties. It's WEIRD, but they kind of use speaking Italian as a way to get girls, so it fits Romeo pretty well.

"Hello?" I ask quietly, hoping this isn't him calling to, I dunno,_ talk_ or something, because I've always sucked at those talks where everyone expects you to give them a fucking piece of your soul and you're just like, "Ahm, actually, that's okay..."

"Lovino?"

"This_ is_ my phone number," I say crossly.

"Um, yeah, well, see, I need y-your, um, help with something..."

I nearly throw my phone with surprise. Did Romeo just_ seriously_ ignore me almost-insulting him? Say WHAT?! "What do you need help with?" I ask carefully.

"W-well, th-there's this girl I like... her name is Lili Zwingli, she's in my class." Zwingli... that sounds kinda familiar somehow. Eh.

I roll my eyes. "Romeo, there's _always_ 'this girl I like' and you _always_ act like she's the one-"

"No, but_ fratello_, I'm _serious_ about this one! Really and truly I am! She's beautiful, but not just on the outside! I actually spoke with her- like, a proper conversation, y'know, with words and talking and- and guess what? She likes Harry Potter as much as I do!" Yeah, Romeo and I are shameless Harry Potter geeks. Actually, we tried to start a highschool Harry Potter Debate Club, but that didn't work out because we were the only one learned enough in Harry Potter Geek to actually hold a conversation with, well, each other...

"That's actually impossible, _fratellino,_" I inform him. "You were trained by the best- _me_, and there's no way in_ hell_ she can know as much about Harry Potter as I do! I've read all the books five times, except for numbers one and six, I've read those one's six times."

"Yeah, but she's read them _all_ six times!" he says smugly.

"WHAT?!" I shriek. "That's impossible! I'm reading all of them again tomorrow!"

"Not if I read them fi- but wait, I want your advice, _fratello_!"

"About what?" I ask warily.

"Well, how should I get her to like me?"

I sigh. I don't understand why, but whenever any of my friends or relatives (Nonno included!) need relationship advice, they all go to _me,_ which is weird because I've never, _ever_ been in a proper relationship before. I mean, sure, I've kissed a few girls before, but that was mostly their fault, if not completely by accident. Also, I'm still... ah, well, I suppose this is embarrassing, but... I haven't... actually... um, _done it_ with anyone before... DON'T LAUGH! I just never found the right person! Fucking Christ!

"I don't know," I tell him finally. "Figure it out your fucking self!"

"But Lovinooooooo~!" he whines.

"Fine, fine! I guess you should go, like, talk to her or something, right? Get to know her, and then, when you think the time is right, just tell her that you love her, I guess."

"Oh! So should I go to her dorm room right now and talk to her? She's got a friend there, I swear, her name is Mai, and I'll even ask her to talk outside with me, not in her room, so can I _please_ go talk to her?"

"Why are you asking me?" I ask crossly. "Go do whatever the fuck you want."

"Okay, I'm going right now~!" he says happily, hanging up the phone. I sigh and shove my phone back into my pocket, then finally free myself from these goddamn handcuffs and stand up, brushing my clothes off, just in case they've gotten dirty.

"Zwingli," I say thoughtfully to myself. "Where have I heard that name before?" It reminds me of guns for some reason, but _that_ can't be right- oh shit. Oh shit. OH SHIT. I quickly grab my phone and dial Romeo's number, waiting impatiently for him to pick up and cursing when he doesn't. I call again. "Come on, _fratellino_, pick the fuck up!" I nearly throw my phone across the stupid fucking room when he doesn't. I race outside quickly, trying to remember where Vash Zwingli- Lili's blond, overprotective, gun-crazy brother -has his room. It's near his sister's, I think, and the first number starts with a three- holy shitting popsicles, it's right next to An- Anto- Antonio's r-room...

(Insert awful session of wondering if I should just leave Romeo to die _here_.)

"Fuck it all!" I shout, beginning to run down the hallway towards Antonio's room. How long would it have taken Romeo to reach Lili's room, which Vash probably has under surveillance? Um, right about now. How long for Vash to notice him? Right about now. How long for me to reach Vash's room? TOO FUCKING LONG! Cursing, I pull out my phone once more and dial Antonio, swearing under my breath at him for being to slow even if he _does_ answer right after the second ring.

"Hello?" he asks happily.

"Antonio, there'll be a pissed-off-looking blond guy leaving the room next door to yours any second now._ Under no circumstances are you to let him leave_." I say dangerously.

"Okay~!" he says happily. I can practically hear him saluting over the phone. Oh god, he's such a... he's so... FUCK. I was _not_ going to say cute right there! Shut UP!

"Bye," I grumble, hanging up my phone _a-fucking-gain_ before taking off once more, running as fast as I can (which is actually surprisingly fast) so as to try to reach Vash before he kills my little brother. Of course, I don't know if I'll be able to, like, _stop_ the guy, but I'll do my goddamn best to make him go deaf with my shouting and insults! It's what he deserves if he thinks he's gonna mess around with my baby brother, damn them all to hell!

* * *

**A/N Yay for cliffhangers! HAHAHAHAHA! Dontcha love me?! X3**

**And also, do you like how I say I won't be updating as often, so I update anyways?! Yeah... **

**Anyways, reviews equal love, and you ALL loooooooove me, don't you?! :3 (Also, if you review then Lovino and Antonio get love too~!)**


	8. Brothers Shouldn't Have Been Invented

**Brothers Shouldn't Have Been Invented**

* * *

_"Breathe in, exhale / To turn to move beyond the pale_

_Flag up, set sail /To find what's there beyond the pale"_

_Ed Sheeran, "Beyond the Pale"_

* * *

I race through the halls of this goddamn-way-too-big-who-the-hell-was-the-architect-oh-wait-that-was-Nonno school and try to resist bursting into tears because there's this big ball of _something_ in the middle of my chest, and I'm not sure if it's worry for Romeo or a vague hope that Antonio will look at me soon. Oh god, I'm such a wimpy, girly, stupid, gay little- little- _squirrel!_

When I finally reach Antonio's- fuck it all, _Vash's goddamn stupid fucking dorm go die you little asshole_ -I'm totally out of breath and really want to either curl up on the floor and cry or throw my arms around Antonio and hug/strangle him.

No, wait! I thought I was absolutely _not_ gay, so what the fuck is going on? What did I just think about Antonio?! FUCK ALL HUMAN BEINGS! There. I think that helped.

But anyways, when I finally reach Vash's room, Antonio is frisking him- although at first I think he's doing something completely different and I nearly attack him until I see him pulling a small knife off of Vash's person -while speaking into his phone about how he needs to see "Headmaster Vargas" immediately. I stop running and linger a little ways off, pretending to wait for Nonno to come so that I can watch Antonio- I mean, waiting for Nonno to come so that I can talk to him, god-fucking-dammit!

It's then that I realize that_ Vash had a fucking knife on him, and he was probably planning to use it on my brother_. I'm torn between running to Antonio and throwing myself at him and freaking out, or running to Vash and doing my best to, em, at the least hurt him, and running to Romeo to... to... yell at him or something. I dunno. Maybe just watch him be alive and bask in the glory that is being a successful older brother. Ish. Person. Thingy.

In the end I decide to just wait for Nonno, because it's the one option I can think of that doesn't include running, and I just ran all the way here! I can't run anymore. It's not allowed. I'm sure that's stated somewhere, in the law, or maybe the Ten Commandments... or something... Plus, well, Antonio... is... standing in the middle of the hallway... and, well, I've been following him around for so long now that I still feel like I have to keep him within my sight. (Partly so that he doesn't randomly sneak up on me.) (And totally not because I like looking at his ass- him.) (That would be silly.)

And then, of course, he catches sight of me and sends me a friendly smile, which makes my face suddenly grow hot and Vash to wonder what the hell is going on, since Antonio was just chewing him out and now suddenly he's _smiling_. I open the nearest door and jump into it to hide myself, thanking my lucky stars that it's a closet rather than someone's dorm room, because what if they were changing in there or something? Ew! I don't want to see that!

I hide in there for a moment, half freaked out of my mind that Antonio will open the door and look at and smile that- that easy-going smile, and then... and then I'll be _gay!_

Oh fuck, that doesn't make sense even to me...

Suddenly the door opens and I shriek a bit- I mean, no, I didn't, I just, um, coughed and it sounded... like a shriek... -and, instead of Antonio, like I had expected (but _not_ hoped!), it's Nonno, looking at me sternly.

"Lovino, come out of the closet."

At first I think he's telling me to, like, _come out_ of the _closet_ as a _gay guy_, but then I realize that he's just telling me to, um, get out... of the closet that I'm hiding in. Whew. If it wouldn't have seemed totally weird, I'd have wiped my forehead like there was sweat on it, but instead I just say that I will as soon as he moves _out of the fucking way, godammit_, and step out of the closet in a way that means that my body is completely hidden by his, so that Antonio can't see me. I make sure to keep really close to him as he moves, so that I can move with him and remain hidden, because I don't want Antonio to see me again! He'll... he'll fucking infect me with his gayness, dammit! A voice inside of me asks how I know he's even gay, and I kindly tell it to fuck the fuck off. Did you see how I added an extra "fuck" in there? That makes me cooler. And more right. For serious.

"Lovino, what are you doing?"

I think frantically for a moment before saying, "I'm, ah, h-hiding from Vash! Is he still here?"

"No, Lovino, he's been sent down to my office to wait for me there."

"B-but what if he escapes?!"

Nonno rolls his eyes. "I sent Antonio with him, Lovino, don't be so dumb!"

I start to glare at him before I realize... HOLY FUCK, didn't Nonno see Antonio when we... um... almost kissed... in my backyard... does he recognize him?! I don't dare ask him because what if he doesn't recognize him and then when I ask him if he does he suddenly recognizes him and then _fires_ him or something? I mean, sure, being around Antonio will make me gay, but... that doesn't mean I want him to lose his job. He's... too nice to lose his job... A-and me thinking that does _not_ mean that I like him, dammit! Or that I'm gay, either! I'll only be gay if I'm around him! A-and it does_ too_ make sense! Stop questioning me, dammit!

And then I realize what he called me. "I am _not_ dumb, you asshole!"

He turns around and glares at me. "I am your headmaster! You can't just call me an asshole!"

"Yeah, well, you're also my Nonno, so I can call you whatever the fuck I want! Plus, you just said I was _dumb_, and headmasters aren't allowed to do that, dipshit!"

"Well, students aren't allowed to call their headmasters dipshits, you... you dipshit!"

"Well, headmasters aren't allowed to call their students dipshits either, you... you big fat meanie!"

As soon as I utter the f-word he seems to shrink, then looks down at his stomach sadly. "Y-you think I'm fat...?" he asks despondently, and I just fucking _know_ tears are gathering in his stupid eyes. Yeah, he and Feli are so totally related it's not even _funny._ "I-I mean, I know it's only natural after eating so much rich Italian food, b-but..."

"No, I don't think you're fat, you stupid idiot!" I say, pale and worried, because whenever Nonno gets depressed like this he _always_ calls his stupid German boyfriend, Aldrich, who's also the grandfather of my sworn enemy, The Potato Bastard. His name is so stupid that I've forbidden myself from ever saying it, so I just simply refer to him as The Potato Bastard, because that's what he is, dammit!

"You do!" he wails. "Am I really? Tell me the truth. No, don't even bother; you're just going to lie!" He pulls out his cell phone and dials Aldrich's number quicker than a bolt of Thor's lightning. "I'm going to have to ask Aldrich to verify this! He's seen me naked enough times to know for sure!"

I shiver in grossness. "I just puked a bit in my mouth. Stop talking about your sex-life around me!"

"You're just jealous because I get more than you do." he says, and I turn bright red, I'm sure.

"Sh-shut up, d-do not!"

"Viiiiiiiirgiiiiiiiin," he taunts, his inner two-year-old shining through like some terrible disease. Such as cancer. Or being-a-stupid-asshole-itis.

"Well, at least I'm not acting like a fucking juvenile delinquent _hoodlum_." And with that said I grace(lessly)fully depart to go find Romeo and rip him a new one.

* * *

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

* * *

Or at least, that's my original plan, and it's my current plan up until I reach where I know Lili's dorm room is and turn the corner to see- oh gosh -those two little, what, fourteen-year-old brats... talking and smiling and looking all adorably cute and lovey-dovey. I stop in my tracks and just watch them for a moment, not even inside myself enough to realize how creepy it is that I'm just watching them. I have never, not in all of my life, not even before Romeo and I were abandoned here with Nonno, seen my baby brother look so happy. Well, perhaps when he was a little baby and he would smile happily at anything until he wasn't allowed to do something, at which point he would scream and throw a huge tantrum. He looks so... relaxed and peaceful and happy and it makes me feel... makes me feel...

They're leaning against the wall right outside her door, and he's in this cool-guy pose- you know, the one where his arm is sort of up above her head and he's leaning on it and his ankles are sort of crossed -but because he's not even really all that much taller than her, his arm is way above his head so that it can be above her head, and he looks totally geeky and stupid, while she keeps tugging awkwardly at the hem of her shirt- trying to hid a hole in her jeans -while clutching a Harry Potter book in one arm. They're both blushing furiously, even as they smile shyly when their eyes meet, even as they talk about whatever they're talking about. They look so... awkwardly perfect with each other, so uncomfortably comfortable, that it makes me wish I could be like that too, instead of just stalking my teacher around the school.

In all honesty, it makes me feel really _lonely_, like he's moving on with his life, he's not so hooked on our parents, and I... I'm stuck. I'm completely stuck... in fact, I'm even more stuck than when I was first dropped off here. More stuck than I was seven years ago, or five, or two, or one. I'm more stuck on the idea of parents today than I was yesterday, and yesterday more than the day before that.

_ I get more and more obsessed with every day that passes._

_ I get more and more __alone__ with every day that passes._

I'm such a... I'm such a... complete LOSER.

I mean, I knew I was a loser from the start, but it's only just struck me _how much_ of a loser I am.

I'm the biggest, stupidest loser ever.

I'm such a loser that other losers think I'm cool.

No. Worse.

I'm such a loser that _cool people_ think I'm cool.

Warning lights flash in my head, but I'm too busy thinking about what a loser I am to pay attention to them. So what if this is a dangerous state of mind for me to be in? So what if the last time I thought about myself in this way I did something terrible? So what? All that shit is true! It's truer than true, even! It's... it's... um... Ugh, I'm too much of a loser to even know what it is!

I turn quickly away from Romeo before he can spot me, before he can see the look I know must be on my face, the look that says_ fuck it all, they don't care about me anyways_. I walk back down the hallway, pulling my hood up around my face and ducking my head so that no one can see my face and think, "Oh, look at that guy he looks like he wants to hurl himself in front of a car! Hahaha!"

I walk through the halls aimlessly, not knowing- or caring, for that matter -where I'm going. What's there to care about? I'm so stupid... no one else cares, so why should I?

_But what about Antonio? _asks a small voice in my head_. Doesn't he care?_

"Of course not," I mumble under my breath. "No one does."

_But his eyes look like he cares whenever he looks at you. You just haven't seen it in a while since you won't talk to him._

"He doesn't care. How could he care if not even my parents do?"

_I don't know. Maybe you should ask him. A small pause, and then, more sly this time, the voice says It would be the more manly thing to do._

"I know what you're trying to do..." I say, glaring. "You're trying to trick me into talking to him!"

_ No I'm not. I'm your conscience, and I'm just telling you what you really want to be doing right now._

"I do not want to do that!" I say hotly.

_Then why are you standing outside his room?_ It asks, laying down its trump card. I look up to find that I really am standing in front of his room... like some sort of _stupid fucking idiot._

"I can't believe you, Lovino!" I say instantly. "I can't believe you're stuck on this stupid guy- UGH, get a FUCKING LIFE, you numbskull!" I would have continued if the the door hadn't opened wide. I jump backward instantly, and raise my head to see who is there. My hood gets in the way, though, and hides my face for a moment while I mess around with the cords and try to untangle them. When I finally get it all figured out, I shove the hood off of my face to see Antonio standing in front of my, holding a hand in front of his mouth to stifle his- probably stupid and girly and hot (no, NOT hot!) -giggles. I scowl at him.

"Wh-wh-what are you laughing at, b-bastard...?" I mumble, face heating up even though I imagine polar bears to try to keep it cold in my head.

"I-I wasn't l-laughing at- hee hee -all!" He clears his throat and straightens up, removing his hands from his face, and suddenly he's all... all... _teacher_. "Lovino, I think that we need to talk."

"What about..." I say warily, narrowing my eyes and glaring at him. I don't like how he can just transform like that... how does he do that? Why can't I do that? Oh, right because I'm too stupi-

"Well, it's just that I really like you, so I was wondering how we would make this work."

* * *

**A/N Okay, I know this is short AND it's a cliff-hanger, but... you have NO IDEA the amount of joy leaving you all cliff-hangers gives me, so that explains all of that. *snigger* Anyways, that's all, have fun! ^^**


	9. How To Fall

**How To Fall**

* * *

_"And I will fall for you / if I fall for you /_

_would you fall too?"_

_Ed Sheeran, "Fall"_

* * *

_Well, it's just that I really like you, so I was wondering how we would make this work._

_See, I told you he cared_, my Inner Voice says smugly. I nearly tell it to shut up before I remember that Antonio is there and if he hears me talking to myself he... he... well, I suppose he'll do _something_. Maybe. Then again, he's _Antonio_. He didn't even think about the fact that he was sort of "going out" with someone underage.

"What?" I finally ask him. Just for clarification. I mean, I already know _exactly_ what he said, because he's the only one _stupid_ enough to say it.

"Well, I know you're my teacher and I'm your stude- I mean, I'm your student and you're my- wait, I mean, I'm older than you, and- wait, what am I talking about?" He stops and and scratches the top of his head. "I forgot! Well, I just wanted to say that I'm kind of a little bit in love with you?" He at least has the decency to blush here, which I suppose is a good thing. It means he's not totally... _insane_. Ish.

"You're... you're in love... with _me_?" I ask disbelievingly. "_Why_?"

He looks at me and shrugs, giving me a small smile. "I don't know, I just am!"

I cross my arms over my chest and scowl to try and cover up the blush spreading across my face. "Nope. I won't allow you to be in love with me unless you have a reason," I say, which is just stupid, because I know that right here he's not going to be able to think of a reason to love me, because he doesn't actually love me, he's just pretending to make me feel better about myself-

"Well, I love your smile. It's really rare but when it _does_ come around it's really lovely! And I love how you seem to care about your family. You don't mention them too much, but when you do you seem really affectionate, and that's really sweet. And I love the way you get so embarrassed when I compliment you, it's so cute! Like right now, your face is all red! And I love how you write, that's really cool. I used to write but I didn't do much more than dabble, but you seem really into it. And I just- well, I just love all of you. I love your laugh, and I love your glare, and I love the way you call me 'bastard,' and I love-"

I reach forward, blushing furiously, and cover his mouth with my hands. "Okay, okay, I get it, y-you can stop now, dammit, you... you stupid..." To my horror, I realize that there are tears rising in my eyes, but I don't want to wipe them away for fear that he'll notice them, and then what, he'll know I'm crying and gosh, he'll ask me into his room and he'll... he'll hold me and love me and- ...Wait, tell me again why I don't want this?

He reaches over and cups my face in one of his hands, removing my hands from his mouth with the other. "Lovino, are you alright?" He sounds worried, and it takes me a moment to realize that he's worried about _me_. Because I'm _crying_. Well, I'm not crying, but... there are tears in my eyes, and I guess that's sort of the same thing.

"I'm fine," I try to say past the lump in my throat. It doesn't work too well. I don't remember the last time someone other than Nonno or Romeo was truly worried about me.

"What's wrong?" he asks, like I can just tell him. I wish it was that simple. I don't want to burden him with my stupid problems. He's got bigger things to deal with, I'm sure, then little old me. Just ask my parents. They'd probably agree.

I clear my throat and look down at the floor. "Nothing's wrong." I tell him. My voice sounds a little croaky, and the lump keeps struggling to come back. "I... I have to go now, I don't want to bother you-" I gasp as he takes both of my hands in his own and pulls me into his room- into his arms, into a hug, a nice, warm hug. He wraps one arm around my waist and entwines the finger of his other hand in my hair, snuggling his face into the top of my head and keeping me there, warm and safe. I struggle a bit at first, but in the end I just close my eyes and rest my head on his chest, making sure that I absolutely _don't_ hug him back, since I don't want to seem like I like this.

He moves his leg forward and I start to wonder what the _fuck_ he thinks he's doing, but then I hear the door shut behind us. Oh shit, has that door been open this whole time? Shit! What if someone saw us! Fucking shit!

"A-Antonio, did someone see-?" I pull away a bit to look up at him.

"No, no one saw. No one even passed by. Don't worry about it." He pulls me back to him and presses a soft kiss to the top of my head, and I shiver a bit. It just feels so good to have him hold me. Wait! No it doesn't! ...Ah fuck, who am I kidding? It _totally_ feels good. That doesn't mean I have to tell _him_ though.

He rubs a circle into my back before asking, "Are you okay, Lovi?"

I open my mouth, preparing to say yes, like I usually do when someone asks me this, but something about the way he says it makes me tell the truth. "No. Not really."

He tightens his grip around me. "Will you tell me what's wrong? I want to help you." His breath feels warm on my skin, and it makes me comfortable enough to say maybe. I _might_ tell him what's wrong. I _might_ let him help me. But I won't.

I think I won't, anyways.

But the way he doesn't push me into telling him anything, and the way he just stands here and holds me, tells me that I might.

* * *

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

* * *

The next couple days pass easily enough. I start going back to Antonio's class- but first I tell him he absolutely _cannot_ talk to me as if he knows me -and I hang out a bit more with the Vargas Cupids, who are still acting fucking creepy, dammit, and I apologize to Nonno for calling him fat. (Because he was threatening to not let me eat- what would _you_ have done?!) I try to stay away from Romeo, though, because a) he's acting so completely lovesick (to put it into geeky perspective, like when Ron drank that love potion in the sixth Harry Potter book) and b) I feel like, since he's so in love, he'll notice that _I'm_ in... um... n-not love, that's for sure! Fuck you!

I'm surprised it's lasted this long.

I've been expecting this to blow up for a while now.

Which is why I'm not surprised when Nonno calls me and asks if we can Talk. With a capital T. That's how I know something awful/big/important is going to happen.

"What are we going to Talk about?" I ask suspiciously.

"Oh... just... just something that's been on my mind. For a while now, actually. But I'll explain it to you later, over coffee. I'll buy you whatever you want, really!"

A ball of dread gathers in the pit of my stomach as possibilities flash through my mind, but I push them all out of my mind because he just said he'd buy me _anything_. "Fine, I'll meet with you, I guess."

"Good," he breathes. He sounds like a huge weight has been lifted off his shoulders. That doesn't mean I'm not gonna have him buy me at least one pair of skinny jeans to wear the next time Antonio and I are alon- NO! Never!

I hang up and head to his office, which has big, imposing wooden doors, for some strange reason. I guess he wants to pretend like he's a good headmaster by having scary doors, even though everyone knows that he's not scary at all.

I open the doors without knocking ('cause I'm a _badass_ that way) and walk into his office, sitting down on a spinny chair on one side of the desk, the side that's meant for students who are in trouble to sit in. Unlike his doors, his office is really friendly, with a big, arched window in front of me and curtains that tone down the bright sunlight a bit, a big desk with a bunch of pictures of me, Romeo and Feli on it, and a bunch of random fancy candelabras set along the wall. Also, there's a door to my left that leads to a room where he sleeps. We kind of live at the school most of the year.

At the moment, he's not in the room, so I spin around on the chair and try my best to not think about thinking about Antonio, my new favorite hobby, apparently. I just _can_ _not_ stop thinking about not thinking about Antonio! It's getting insane. I barely have time to _write_ anymore, and my story is getting super fucking pissed at me. And also trying it's best to shove itself out of my throat. No, wait, my... fingers... wait, what? Whatever. The point is that my story wants to be written. Except that I'm too busy thinking about not thinking about Antonio. I thought when you were in l... l... llllllinguini you couldn't stop thinking about the _person_, not about not thinking about them.

The side door that leads to Nonno's room clicks open and I jerk out of my thoughts to find that I have a mini-notebook-thingy in my hands and have been writing semi-coherent sentences on it in that way you do when you're writing but not paying attention and so you turn random words into words that make the whole sentence sound like a parody of what's actually going on. So far I've written "And then he said 'Are you stinky?' with a caramel look in his eyes that makes my heart chocolate."

"Why are you giggling to yourself?" asks Nonno as he sits behind his desk and starts rearranging papers, which I feel might be a bit unnecessary.

"I'm not giggling," I say, quickly straightening up and swallowing my next wave of insane, falling-off-chair giggling.

"... Right. Well, anyways, Lovino, I... I have something important to tell you."

Instantly, I'm on guard. "What do you mean 'important.' The last time you said something was 'important' was when you told me that your stupid German boyfriend and his stupid German grandsons might have to move in with us, and that sucked, because I would have had to share a room with Romeo-"

"Aldrich and I are getting married." he blurts out suddenly.

"WHAT?!" I scream.

"H-he proposed to me a couple weeks ago but I didn't want to say anything because you seemed so unhappy but now that you seem more stable I figured I should tell you because I didn't want you to just wake up on the morning of the wedding to everyone freaking out and- and stuff..."

"Why didn't you tell me this before?!" I yell.

"I just told you why I didn't tell you before!" he yells back.

"Well... well... you were lying!"

"Was not!"

"Were too!"

"Was not!"

I sit back in my seat and cross my arms mopily. "Anything else you want to tell me?" I grumble. "Those fucking _Germans_ aren't going to move in with us now, are they?"

"Well... no, but... um... well..."

"Just spit it out, dammit!"

"Yourparentsarecomingtothewed ding-" he blurts out. I try to decipher it for a moment, then give up.

"_What_?!" I ask.

He takes a deep breath. "Um... y-your parents are... um... coming to the wedding..."

"_WHAT_?! WHY WOULD YOU INVITE THEM!" Suddenly there are tears rising in my eyes and I'm- am I _shaking_? Oh fuck, am I having a fucking _panic_ _attack_, seriously, how fucking lame can you _get_?

"Lovino-"

"I have to go." I struggle up from my stupid spinny chair and head towards the door.

"Lovino, wait, I can explai-"

"I don't want to hear it."

"Lovino, come _back_ here-"

I stop in front of the door, and he starts to sound hopeful, until I turn and pull out my phone, which just buzzed in my pocket. "I'm going out." I say coolly. "I won't be back for a while. Don't bother looking for me."

"Lo_vi_no _Var_gas, come back here _right_-" I slam the door before he can finish.

* * *

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

* * *

**Wanna do something? :) We could drive to the city! Wouldn't that be fun?**

** Cant u jst txt lie a normal prsn**

** Of course not! What sort of writing teacher would I be if I couldn't even spell things properly?**

** Wll, its gettng annying**

** I don't understand what you're saying...**

** IT'S GETTING ANNOYING**

** You forgot punctuation. :D**

I manage a smile, then clap a hand over my mouth so that no one will see. I'm _trying_ to be upset here. Antonio's making it really hard.

I stop in front of the door to his room, checking around sneakily to see if anyone's looking before opening the door and slipping inside, closing and locking it behind me.

"Antonio?" I call softly. I wait a couple of seconds before deciding to snoop around his room, because obviously it's only natural to snoop around the living quarters of the guy you l... l... lllllllasagna.

First I go into his kitchen, which I've been in before, but only to eat. I have to make sure he has pasta and tomatoes in his fridge otherwise he might get hungry. I mean, what else is there to eat besides pasta and tomatoes? I mean, besides pizza, but that's practically the same thing, except with toppings and delicious.

Next, I check his bedroom (which is, you know, the size of a closet, but still, at least he's got a door- goddamn teachers and their fucking special treatment), because what if he was actually taking a naked nap in there when he texted me and he's still asleep in there and then I can- I can _not_ see him naked, why would I want to see _that_, I'm not _gay_ or anything...

I'M NOT FUCKING GAY.

_Dio mio._

When I notice he's not in there after checking his room out thoroughly, I go back into the kitchen- which is pretty much the whole living place anyways, and throw myself down on the one piece of furniture- a huge, comfy armchair that I've _definitely_ never shared with Antonio while watching a horror movie, mm-mm, not _me_ -to wait for him to show up. I barely have time to wonder where he is when he walks out of the bathroom wearing only a pair of low-slung skinny jeans (come one now, really? Is that even _legal_?) and a towel around his neck.

With further examination I notice that his pants aren't even buttoned.

Surely _that's _not legal.

Or zipped either, for that matter.

Illegal, all the way.

He seems to notice me instantly, shooting me a smile and telling me to wait a minute while he gets dressed (because obviously he's not about to be nervous about being seen by his- his _student_, for fuck's sake -when he's mostly naked. _Mostly_ _naked_, people. I'm _pretty_ _sure_ that's not legal in _any_ way. At all, and _damn_ do those jeans show off his butt, mmhmm, that's nice right there.

Not that I was checking him out or anything.

I'm not gay.

He comes back out after a couple minutes wearing a bright yellow t-shirt (that's so totally gay it's not even funny) and then smiles at me. "Hi, Lovi! What's up with you today?"

"My name's not Lovi!" I tell him half-heartedly. "And nothing's up with me, except that my Nonno's getting married." I debate telling him about my parents. And debate. And debaaaaate. Because while one part of me doesn't want to tell him _anything_ (else) about my family situation, the rest of me wants to throw myself into his arms and make him hold me while I sob out my life's story, which is even gayer than his t-shirt but also sounds really nice. Even though I'm not gay.

"Oh, your Nonno's getting married? That's so exciting! Who's he getting married to? When's the wedding? Why don't you sound excited?"

"I don't sound excited because he's marrying this German bastard! And I don't know when the wedding is, I didn't stay long enough to find out."

His face falls suddenly. "I didn't interrupt you guys, did I?" he asks sadly. "I would feel really bad if I had..."

"No, you didn't interrupt us. I was already leaving when you texted me."

"Are you sure?"

I roll my eyes at him. "_Yes_, Antonio, I'm _sure_."

"Oh. Why were you already leaving then?"

I shoot him a shrewd glance- he's totally got me in a trap, now I have to answer him or else he'll know something's bugging me -but he just smiles innocently at me, like a... a... a puppy. A golden retriever puppy. But brown. And sexy. With super bright green eyes and a sexy ass- not that I look at it a lot or anything.

"Nothing. Just Nonno's wedding. He invited... some people I don't really want to see."

He frowns lightly, concernedly at me. "Lovi, you can tell me what's bothering you. I won't judge you for it."

My heart = melted.

Even though I'm totally gay.

I- I mean NOT gay, dammit! ...Sh-shut up!

"It's nothing!" I insist. "Except that he... invited my parents. To his wedding, I mean, and we just don't really get along, me and my parents- no, that's not proper grammar, my parents and I -and I just don't really want to see them until next summer, but even when I go and stay with them in the summer I barely see them and even when I do they kind of act like I'm not there- like Harry Potter and the Dursley's, except that they're my parents and my mom gave birth to me but she still doesn't seem to like me at all- but I don't really care, anyways, because I don't like _them_ either, and I definitely didn't throwmyselfoutawindowbecause ofthem- oh, sorry I'm babbling. I'll stop now." I close my mouth and think over all the things I just said, and that's when I realize- FUCK I JUST TOLD HIM ABOUT TWO YEARS AGO WHEN-

"Lovi, did you just say that... you... threw yourself out a window because of them?" He asks carefully, staring at me seriously, for once.

And suddenly I burst into tears.

* * *

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

* * *

Two years ago, I was sitting in my room, staring out the window, thinking about my parents, which actually wasn't all that unusual. I would sit there for hours and hours imagining what life would have been like if they had liked me and kept me.

My thoughts, as usual, turned to ways I could make them care about me.

I could be nicer.

I could be cute, like Feli.

I could stop swearing.

I could have friends.

I could get along with people.

I could stop liking Harry Potter and get into art and Leonardo Da Vinci.

I could throw myself out this window.

I mean, they'd at least come to my funeral if I died, wouldn't they?

They'd come to see me in the hospital if I survived.

Just to make sure I was still alive, at least.

Wouldn't they at least check?

I was willing to take that chance.

Apparently Nonno saw me fall. He was out within two minutes of my sudden exit through the window. He called the hospital and did his best to stop me from bleeding to death on the cement of our old house.

I woke up five days later, in the hospital. They asked me what had happened. And I tried to unhook myself from all the machines I was attached to, the machines that were keeping me alive. I wanted to die. I kept screaming for them to let me die. My parents weren't there, and so I wanted to die.

They sedated me.

The next time I woke up, they had someone come in and talk to me about my feelings, blah blah blah, why I had done this, so on and so forth. I told him that it was all my parents' faults and that he should just let me die already.

I was in the hospital for... three months? More? I can't remember.

It wasn't that my injuries were that bad- a concussion, a couple broken ribs, a broken arm, a broken ankle -it was the fact that I just kept trying to kill myself. Again. And again. And again. And. Again.

Later, when I was more stable and heavily sedated, one of the doctors asked me why I kept trying to kill myself. I told him that it was because my parents hadn't just _abandoned_ me, it was because they had picked _someone_ _else_ over me.

I mean, I was their son too. It wasn't just Feliciano. He wasn't their only child, like they were so fond of pretending. They had Romeo and I as well. They just didn't seem to care at all about us.

And then I did my best to slit my wrists with the nearest sharp thing I could find.

I was not in a good way. I was in a bad way. I was in one of the worst ways, actually. My parents made me want to die so much, and they weren't even in the same continent I was. That was the problem.

* * *

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

* * *

When I finally finish my story I'm sitting on the floor of Antonio's room with my knees pulled up to my chest, too afraid to look at him. I mean, who wants to be boyfrie- _friends_ -with a seventeen-year-old who's family still checks up on him at least every three hours just to make sure he hasn't drowned himself in the bathtub or thrown himself down the stairs or slit his wrists. No one wants to be around someone who can't keep their fucking problems to themselves. No one wants to be around someone who can't go to the bathroom without their grandfather freaking out and calling them at least eight times on their cell phone, wondering where he is.

And so I'm just waiting for Antonio to say something about how he needs me to get away from him, he can't deal with me right now, he's got papers to grade, movies to watch, people to call, a life to move on with, which I can't do.

But he doesn't.

Instead, he reaches out a hand and runs it slowly, uncertainly through my hair. I freeze with- with fear, with shock, with surprise and, above it all, hope -and look up into his bright green eyes.

"Lovino..." he says quietly. "I love you. So don't do anything like that again, please?"

I sniffle and wipe my eyes on my sleeve. My face feels puffy and tight and my throat hurts, all because I was fucking _crying_. Like a stupid _girl_. It's no fucking wonder my parents chose Feli over me.

"Lovino, look at me, okay?" I look up at him. His eyes make me want to cry. His face makes me want to cry. Everything about him makes me want to cry, because he cares about me, even when it seems like no one else does. Well, I know that Romeo and Nonno and Feli all probably care about me, but... no one really needs me... or anything... I would inconvenience them if I died, nothing more.

"Lovino, you're important, okay? You really are. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Sure you do," I say croakily. "You'd get on with your life, like I can't seem to do. You'd go on teaching here and then fall in love with someone and get married and have kids and live your life and not try to kill yourself and-"

He reaches out and grabs my hand, intertwining our fingers. I don't even bother pulling away. It's not going to do anything if I don't even mean it.

"Would you jump out a window holding my hand?" he asks softly, trailing the fingers of his free hand up and down my wrist.

"No," I answer immediately. "I'd let go first."

"I won't let you let go. I keep a tight grip on your wrist. Do you still jump out the window?"

"No, of course not. You don't have to die just because I'm a terrible person."

"Have you heard of the red string of fate?"

"...No..."

"It's a red thread that connects two people by their little fingers. It means that they're meant to be together. Forever."

"So what does that have to do with anythi-"

"Can't you see it, Lovi? I saw it the first time I saw you, though I didn't know what it was. You and I have a red string of fate tied between us, Lovino, and if you ever jump out a window again, we'll be connected by our fingers."

"So what?" I ask, trying to sound aloof even though my voice is trembling like crazy.

"So, even if you fall, I'll pull you back up."

My eyes fill with tears- _again_, what's with me and fucking _crying_ -and I wipe them away before staring at him. "Really?"

He reaches out and pulls me into a warm, comfortable hug. "Really," he breathes.

* * *

**A/N So, I officially turned Ed Sheeran's, like, ONE happy song into a sad chapter for a fanfiction. Yay me! Well, it's not even THAT happy, so I guess we're good. And I guess I didn't, like, base this chapter off the song, so...**

**But anyways. This was pretty angsty, eh? I feel like maybe a lot of you weren't exactly expecting this. I was totally dropping hints, too... but... I feel like no one was getting suspicious... so... I hope this threw you a bit. XD I know, I'm evil.**

**Yeah, it's totally two in the morning and I'm sickish, guys. I think I need some healing favorites and follows. XD**** There's a magical box below this that you can use to tell me what a little bitch I am for making all of this shit happen to Lovino. You should totally use it. It'll be great. I just know it. :D**


	10. Unwritten

** Unwritten**

_"I see your grace / From my window_

_When it is late at night / It'll show me your shadow"_

_Ed Sheeran, "So"_

Why is Antonio so nice? It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not fair.

And more importantly... why do I have to share him?

I mean really. It's only natural that I shouldn't have to share him. I should be able to keep him all to myself. I should be able to hold his hand in private and public and glare at everyone who looks at him without my permission. I should be able to do all of that stuff. But sadly, I can't, and it's all because of Nonno.

See, if he found out I was... almost-dating a guy, he'd freak out and annoy me because he was right. And then if he found out I was dating my_ teacher_, well, _shit would happen_, and probably someone would die. And that someone would probably be Antonio.

Oh, and also because I'm, you know, underage and shit. But that doesn't matter to me so much.

So, Antonio and I are dating. Or something. I'm not sure, and I don't want to just randomly ask him if we're dating because what if we're not? I mean, we haven't even... like, k-kissed or anything, at least not on the lips, so what if we're not actually dating? What if he's just being a nice person and I'm just kidding myself into thinking we're dating? I mean, even though all the stuff he says to me is... mushy and... r-romantic and shit... but for all I know he says that to everyone... I mean... how do I know that whole red string of fate shit isn't just some pickup line he's practicing on me?

...

Excuse me while I mentally slap myself. Can I even _get_ more paranoid? I need to stop this... I need... I need to just go right out and ask! Yeah! I'll just fucking ask him if we're dating! Fuck yes! That's what I'll do!

"Lovi? What are you doing?" I_ don't_ scream (that much) and whirl around to find Antonio staring at me with a puzzled look on his face.

"N-nothing... I wasn't doing anything... and I certainly wasn't talking to my reflection!"

"Oh, okay! Is that a good thing?"

"Um... yes! Yes it is!"

"Okay then! So, do you want to eat dinner with me, or will you be hanging out with your friends?"

I pretend to consider it for a moment (like there's any competition) and then say "Oh all right, I'll eat with you!"

He claps his hands together happily. "Okay, good, because I didn't want to eat alone! It's lonely to eat alone!"

"Mmm," I say, even though I agree. Somehow it just seems stupid to admit that I'm lonely whenever I eat alone, even if I'm eating at, like, five in the morning because I woke up super early with a nightmare and need comfort food. Or because I imagined I saw a ghost and I had to eat garlic to keep it away. FUCK YOU, THAT TOTALLY WORKS. I've been protected from demonic possession many times by the immediate ingestion of garlic bread. And pasta. And pizza. And- oh, fuck you!

"Okay, so then I'll make us something and-" He stops talking as my phone starts ringing. "Is that for you?" he asks, mind already distracted from what he was saying.

"Well, it_ is_ my phone," I answer, maybe a bit more snarky than I really need to be.

"Oh, okay. Are you going to answer it then?"

"...Maybe..." I shoot him a look and then grab my phone, quickly answering the call and pressing it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Lovino?" asks Nonno.

"Good bye now," I say immediately, in a calm sort of way, which I'm rather proud of.

"Wait Lovino I-"

_End call._

I look up at Antonio and smile sweetly, also known as me being fucking pissed.

"Who was that?" Antonio asks curiously.

"No on important."

My phone rings again and Antonio looks pointedly at where it sits in my hand. "Are you sure they're not important?" he asks doubtfully.

"Absolutely!"

"Then who was it?"

"...Nobody."

"If it's nobody then I'll answer it for you." he offers, reaching for the phone. I quickly pull my hand away from him.

"Th-that's okay," I stammer, holding it behind my back. "I don't need to answer calls from them." The phone finally goes quiet, and I breathe a sigh of relief. He takes that moment to suddenly grab me by the shoulders, nearly making me scream, then sliding his hand down my arm (which I feel might be unnecessarily sexy, dammit) and grabbing my phone from my hands. He glances at the screen, still holding onto my shoulder (p-probably to distract me, since I can't think when he's this close) and then holds the phone in front of my face.

"It says 'One Missed Call from Nonno,'" he tells me. "Isn't 'Nonno" Italian for "grandfather," aka the guy you live with? Who's raised you?"

"Um... n-no... definitely not..." I say unconvincingly. "Nonno is... um... a cinnamon bun."

He just stares at me for a moment, like he didn't actually believe I was crazy until now. "Okay then," he finally says. "If Nonno is a cinnamon bun then I guess you won't mind if I call him back." He quickly presses redial and begins to bring the phone up to his ear but I lunge at him, wrenching the phone from his grasp and knocking him over in the process, since I'm so fucking graceful. He instinctively reaches out and grabs me and we both fall over, with me on top of him. I stare down at his face for a moment- well, mostly his mouth... Suddenly I'm leaning slightly down, because _god_ do I want a kiss, but then Nonno answers his phone and shouts "LOVINO, WE NEED TO TALK!" and ruins the moment. Again. FOR THE SECOND FUCKING TIME.

FUCKING. SHIT.

CAN'T I AT LEAST GET ONE FUCKING KISS WITHOUT MY GRANDFATHER INTERRUPTING ME?!

THANKS A MOTHERUCKING LOT, NONNO.

AND TO THINK YOU TEASE ME ABOUT BEING A VIRGIN WHEN YOU'RE THE ONLY REASON I AM.

ASSHOLE.

I put the phone to my ear and roll off of Antonio before he tries anything (because while making out when I'm on the phone sounds delightfully kinky I don't think it would work very well with Nonno) and snap "What the fuck do you want?" into the phone. Antonio sends me a reproachful look. I somehow manage to not send him the bird.

"I want to_ talk_, Lovino. Talk. Like civilized human beings. Instead of ignoring the problem, let's face it head on and figure this out, okay? Because I want to be friends with you, Lovino."

I snort scornfully at this. "Yeah right."

"I really do, Lovino, and I think that we should talk. Where are you now? I can pick you up and we can go get dinner and talk about what's going on-"

"Where I am is no concern of yours!" I blurt instantly. I nearly slap myself at my stupidity. WHY DID I SAY THAT?! No wonder Nonno keeps managing to keep me a virgin... I'M A DUMBASS.

"Lovino... are you somewhere that you shouldn't be...?" he asks suspiciously. "Where are you? You're not, um, at a... secret, black market brothel are you?"

I nearly drop the phone in my surprise. "Yes, Nonno. I'm at a black market brothel. I just love it here. It's my favorite place ever. Next time why don't you come with me?" I hope he can hear the sarcasm dripping off my words.

"_When did I become a black market brothel?_" Antonio whispers to me. I reach out and cover his mouth with my palm, surprising both of us so much that we just sit there and look at each other, brown eyes meeting green ones.

"Where are you for_ real?_" Nonno asks me, voice traveling to even Antonio's ears, breaking the moment YET AGAIN. Does anyone know a cheap assassin...?

"I'm at school, of course. With Eliza. And Michelle. And Bella."

"Oh, okay. So, come to my office and then we'll drive to Rome, okay? Romeo's coming with us, but I'll drop him off at the house."

"Okay then, I'll meet you there." I quickly end the call before he forces me to say good bye, then stand up and shove my phone into my pocket. "I have to go, Antonio," I say. "I have to talk to my nonno or something. I dunno. I think it's about this whole..." I wrinkle my nose distastefully. "_marriage_ thing..."

"Okay! I'll see you later, Lovi!"

"Don't call me Lovi!" I snap perfunctorily. "And... I'm sorry that... um... we can't... e-eat dinner together..." I feel my cheeks burn red and quickly turn towards the door.

"Wait!" he calls, lunging from the floor to grab my hand. I turn around, surprised, and then nearly pass out and he leans forward and places a quick kiss on the tip of my nose. He grins at me, half seductive, half happy. "See you later, Lovi!"

"S-sure... yep... uh-huh..." I manage. "See you..." I turn quickly and exit the room, then lean on the closed door and try to will my heart to beat again. But _when_ will he finally fucking kiss me, for _real_?!

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

The car ride to Rome is awkward.

Romeo can't stop talking about his "girlfriend"- fucking twerp has probably gone farther than _I_ have, dammit! -and Nonno is totally happy to talk to him about it. _In_ _fucking_ _detail_. Like, sorry, but I DON'T WANT TO HEAR EVERY FUCKING DETAIL OF THEIR FUCKING CUTE FIRST "DATE" TO THE LIBRARY. JUST SHOOT ME PLEASE.

But if the car ride's bad...

...dinner with Nonno is HELL.

We're sitting there waiting for our dinner, both of us with a glass of wine ('cause the legal drinking age in Italy is SIXTEEN, BITCHES!), probably looking like a strange gay couple, and awkwardly looking down at the table cloth because neither one of us wants to discuss this in a public place. Or ever, actually. I'd rather not discuss... _this_. What the fuck are we even talking about, anyways? Is he going to just inform me that he's getting married and my parents are coming and I should man up and deal with it or is he going to bring up... everything else...? Because I DON'T WANT to discuss that shit with him. I really don't. I don't want to discuss it with anyone ever again. I've talked to what seems like forty-million fucking therapists about it and all they say is that I should try to make up with my parents and then move on, but it's not like they understand what I'm going through! I mean, Jesus fuck, did _their_ parents pass them up for their twin brother? No! And were they saddled with the responsibility of being their for their also abandoned baby brother? Also no! They have no idea what I'm going through! They're reading straight from a psychology textbook!

"Lovino... is this all... okay?" Nonno asks hesitantly, finally looking up at me. "I mean, all of... _this_. The wedding and your parents and... everything. Because if you don't like it I... I would be willing to call it all off." He sounds choked up and sick as he says the words, but I know that they're the truth. He seems to actually care about me. He seems to care enough to call off _his_ _own_ _fucking_ _wedding_, which I know will pretty much make him the happiest man alive, just so that I can feel... well, not happy, but at least... comfortable. And I know it's not just because he doesn't want me to commit suicide. It's more than that. He wants me to be happy. He... he _loves_ me...

I take a deep breath, then let it out. If he's willing to throw away his happiness for me, I'm willing to do the same for him. Besides, I've always got Antonio.

I manage a small smile in his direction. "It's fine with me, Nonno. I don't mind if you marry... _Aldrich_. You can... you can go right ahead... don't mind me at all." I sit up straight and lift my head up and look him in the eye. "And I'm perfectly fine if my parents come. I'd just like you to know that if they leave the wedding covered in punch, _it's_ _their_ _own_ _damn_ _fault_!"

Nonno's eyes widen in surprise, and then suddenly he's... he's... he's _crying_. He's sniffling into his napkin, tears coming out of his eyes, shoulders shaking... he's honestly _crying_.

_What the fuck am I supposed to do?!_

"Um... th-there's... um.. no n-need to cry, Nonno..." I say uncertainly. I jerkily bring my hand up and pat him on the shoulder, then pull it back and set it in my lap, because I don't like... _human_ _contact_. Especially not with my crying grandfather. Sorry, just... no.

"Th-thank you, _bello_," he says, using his nickname for me from a long time ago. "Thank you."

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

A couple weeks later, Michelle calls me and asks me if she can come over. She sounds... she sounds really sad, so I say yes, even though I don't actually want to come over, since I'm busy writing, and writing is pretty much comes first in my life. People are about... third. Writing first, then Antonio, then people. Although Antonio is trying to worm his way to number one...

She shows up half an hour later, surprising me quite a bit, since usually it takes longer for her to get here, but hey, I'm dressed, so it's all good.

I open the door to find her standing on the front step, looking down at the doormat. She looks tired and her pretty red hair ribbons seem droopy. Even her dress seems like the weight of the world is pressing down on it's shoulders. "Oh woe is me, living the life of a dress is so hard!"

Um... actually, that's a totally normal thing to think dresses are saying, haha...

"Michelle, what's wrong?" I ask immediately. "Why do you look so... droopy?"

She stares at the ground some more (which is making me really fucking pissed off, let me tell you) and then she looks up at me. She has dark shadows under her eyes and she looks paler than usual.

"Lovino... are you..." She swallows nervously, then straightens her shoulders and glares at me. "Lovino, are you gay?"

What?

WHAT?!

COME ON, IS IT THAT FUCKING OBVIOUS?

Oh, fuck everything... Fuck EVERYTHING! God dammit!

"I dunno!" I half shout, and she seems surprised by my reaction, but what am I supposed to say? "Oh yes, Michelle dear, of _course_ I am gay! Why ever would you think I was straight? Ho ho ho!" or something like, "Of _course_ not, Michelle dear! I'm straight as... something straight, and I want to sweep you off your feet and marry you and-"

Oh.

OH.

Oh SHIT.

"Michelle... are... do you..."

She looks up at me with wide eyes, as if dreading and anticipating my next words.

"Michelle... do you... l... like... _me_?" I wince. That came out wrong. I made it sound as if I was disgusted. I'm _not_ disgusted, just... I mean... this is... um...

She bursts suddenly into tears. "Y-yes, Lovino, I like you, I like you a lot, even though Bella and Eliza kept- _keep_ -saying that you're gay, I like you so, so much and I just don't know what to do anymore, because- are you _really_ gay, Lovino? Are you? Please tell me if you are, okay? Please! I'm your f-friend! I want to kn-know, d-dammit!"

I nearly fall backwards in surprise. I swear that's the first time Michelle has ever sworn. Ever. She's such a goody-goody that I wouldn't even suspect her of knowing "bad" words except that I'm her friend.

"Please... please t-tell me..." she sobs, bringing her hands up to her face to wipe her eyes. "Just... I just want to know if I should keep trying..."

"...Yeah. Yeah, I am... um... I'm..." I glance awkwardly to the side, then back at her. "Yeah, I'm... gay, Michelle. Eliza and Bella have been right all along... Sorry." I offer up, even though that won't make things better.

She sniffles and sobs but finally straightens up, looks me right in the eyes, breathes in and out, and says "Okay then. I'm glad you told me, and I... I hope you still want to be my friend."

"Of _course_ I still want to be your friend!" I say, shocked. "Why would this change anything?"

She smiles weakly at me. "Well... I... I don't know... I-I'm sorry, Lovino, but I have to go."

And with that she turns and walks out into the city, leaving me to feel like I've just ripped the heart from her chest and stomped on it a couple times, before desecrating her great-grandmother's corpse with it.

Fuck.

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

The next night finds me, as usual, in Antonio's apartment. It's a weekend, so most people aren't at the school. Antonio has taken to driving all the way to his apartment every Friday just because Nonno usually drives Romeo and I all the way home and he... he wants... t-to _see_ me over the weekend.

H-he's such a sap...

Of course, I don't like it one bit.

I certainly don't like cuddling on his couch with him, while he rubs his nose against the back of my neck, and his arms are wrapped around my waist, and I feel comfortable and safe and keep falling asleep because somehow I just want to sleep around him, like he can keep me safe from the monsters in my dreams.

We're not cuddling now, though. We're making churros. He seems to really like making churros with me, and I can't help but like it too, since he always looks so happy all the time, cheeks flushed and eyes bright. It's not even that _hard_ to make churros, but somehow he gets all red and puffy and cute and I just want to grab him a-and eat him or something... um... y-yeah...

Antonio is currently tipping the batch of churros I just made into a plate covered with a paper towel, to soak up the grease.

"Look, Lovi! These ones turned out perfectly! Good job!" He takes this "momentous occasion" as a good moment to glomp me, wrapping his arms around me and nuzzling into my hair, smushing my face (rather comfortably) into his chest in the process. I let him do this, resisting a bit just to keep up appearances when really all I want to do is grab him and kiss him and hold him and forever be his and- wait, who am I keeping up appearances _for_ anyways? There's no one here but us, so shouldn't I be able to just... kiss him? Couldn't I? But what if he doesn't want me to kiss him... what if I cross some line and then he hates me and then- and then _no more cuddling on the couch._ What horror.

My phone- which is sitting on his kitchen table, looking vaguely forlorn -rings suddenly, making both of us jump away from each other, as if someone has just seen us having sex or something. N-not that we're having sex! I already _told_ you that we haven't even _kissed_ yet, but I'm sure that when we do it's going to be an epic, Shakespearian kiss- and not the Romeo and Juliet, tragedy type of kiss, but the Benedict and Beatrice, no-nonsense-or-drama kiss that's just simple and perfect.

S-so I've read some Shakespeare in my freetime! You don't have to fucking look at me like that!

"I should go get that," I mumble, not looking him in the eye, because awkward people do awkward things.

"Yeah, probably..." he says regretfully. With a sigh I walk over to my phone, expecting to see a call from Nonno or Eliza or something. Instead I see a call from... _Feliciano_! I quickly answer it and press it to the side of my face.

"Feli? What's wrong?"

"O-oh, _fratello_, thank goodness!" he says, sounding happy (as usual) but also... scared (which is not usual).

"Feli? What's wrong?!" I repeat, this time more urgently.

"I-I ran away, Lovino!" he cries. "I'm so m-mad at Mama and Papa! They're so, so mean to _mio_ _fratteli_ and they treat me like a prince, and I'm done with them!"

"Feli. I don't know where you are, but go back home right now. Turn around, get a taxi, and go back-"

"I thought you'd say that," he says poutily. "But _fratello_, I can't get a taxi back."

"Yes you _can_ Feli, you're in New York! There are taxis _everywhere_-"

"But, _fratello_, I'm _not_ in New York." A cold pit of dread sinks into my stomach, and I put my hand on the table to steady myself. "I'm in Rome, Lovino, and I'm not going home. I'm going to live with you~!"

"O-oh..." I murmur. "That's... that's..." A sudden thought occurs to me and I practically scream into the phone. "Feli where the fuck are you?!" I shout. "Tell me where you are and whatever you do _don't_ _move_. I'm coming to get you right now, okay? So don't you _dare_ move, Feli, stay where you are!"

"Ve~! Okay, _fratello_! Oh, and I'm at the airport! Are you going to come in a car? Ooh, ooh, do you have your own car? That would be so cool~!"

"No, I don't have a car! Just stay where you are, I'll be there in a minute! Bye now! Don't _move_!" I hang up the phone and shove it in my pocket, then head for the door. Suddenly I remember Antonio, and then I remember that he has a car. "Antonio, would you drive me to the airport please?" I ask in the rush. "You remember that other brother I told you about? Yeah, well, he's run away from home and he's just sitting outside the airport, apparently, the dumbass!" I growl a bit in frustration.

"Of course I'll drive you, Lovi!" Antonio says. "I'd love to meet your brother!"

Normally I'd blush at this part, but I don't have time for stupid things like embarrassment now.

"Thanks. Now let's go, quick, before Feli follows some butterfly and gets himself killed."

The sad thing is that that's an actual possibility.

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

The drive to the airport doesn't take long, only around seven minutes, but to me it feels more like seven years. All the things that could happen to a brainless ditz like my brother flash through my mind in those long, long seven minutes, and by the time we finally reach the airport I'm quite certain that the leftover pieces of him are spattered along the bottom of an airplane.

But when we pull up, there he is, waving happily and holding a stuffed suitcase in one hand. I open the car door before it's shut off and, with a sob, stumble over and wrap him in a protective hug, glaring at any passersby who look at us funny. In seconds he's sobbing into my shirt, wailing about something or other, and now I have to pat him on the back and roll my eyes and stroke his hair and hold him until he's finally done.

But when he _is_ done, oh, that's when all hell breaks loose.

First I whack him on the head, making him whimper and cower slightly, even though I didn't even hit him that hard. "You. Stupid. _Idiot_!" I yell at him. "Why in _fuck_ would you run away from home? Do you know how _pissed_ they'll be? Do you know how much _trouble_ we'll get into? All of us! Not just you, but me too, and Romeo, and even Nonno! They'll find _some_ way to blame it on us, and then they'll just take you back home and everything will go back to how it was, except they'll hate us _even_ _more_!" I whack him again. "You stupid _idiot_!" I say one more time for good measure. There are tears in his eyes again, and I feel my gut wrench, but I ignore it. He needs to be properly chastised before I go back to liking him.

I sigh then, rolling my eyes, and then open my arms again. He runs straight into them and gives me a hug, then kisses me on both cheeks, as he does sometimes. "It's g-good to see you though," I stammer out, face turning red considering all the people watching us.

"Ve~! It's good to see you too, _fratello_!" He pulls out of the hug. His head cocks curiously to the side and he points behind me. I turn to see Antonio, leaning awkwardly against his car. As soon as he notices us looking at him he waves and smiles in his overly happy way.

"Hey, hey, Lovino, who is that?" Feli asks excitedly, bouncing on the balls of his feet. Suddenly he caramel eyes go _huge_ in surprise and wonder, and he leans in and whispers in my ear "_Is he your boyfriend?!_"

"N-no!" I squeak instantly and unconvincingly. "Definitely not! He's Antonio! Just... Antonio!"

"You have a boyfriend?!" he asks gleefully, as if he can't fucking believe it. "Wow, I didn't know you had a boyfriend! Do you kiss him and have sex with him and-"

I clap a hand over his mouth to shut him up, then cast a suspicious glance around. _"Keep your motherfucking voice down, Feli,_" I hiss dangerously. "I don't want it getting out that Antonio and I are dating! You have to keep it a secret._ Don't you dare tell a fucking soul or I will kill you._"

He smiles at me, even though I can't see it with my hand covering his mouth, and mumbles "Okay, I won't tell anyone! Does Nonno know? How about Mama and Papa? And Romeo? And your friends? What about my friends, can I tell them? What about-"

Well, there goes my apparently "secret" relationship...

* * *

**A/N I just want you all to know that I must love you a WHOLE FUCKING LOT, because it's currently three in the morning and I haven't even edited this yet, BUT I WILL. **

**THAT'S how much I love you all.**

**And also, I'm thinking of just cutting away the part where Antonio is Lovi's therapist, because there's too much other shit going on. Tell me what you thin k about this if ya want.**


	11. There's No Place Like a Closet

**There's No Place Like a Closet**

* * *

_"When I read through you / You weren't translated_

_So I looked up love in the Yellow Pages"_

_Ed Sheeran, "Yellow Pages"_

* * *

Feli is instantly accepted into our household, like he's always been here. I thought that maybe his mom and dad would call us and make us send him home, and they tried, but Nonno was having absolutely none of it. They yelled for hours and hours on the phone while I had to try and keep Romeo and Feli (okay, mostly Feli) from hearing any of it. I'm not sure how good of a job I did. I was a bit distracted because Antonio kept texting me to ask what was going on and then Feli would shoot Romeo a look and they'd both laugh quietly to themselves, like they knew something that I didn't.

Well, whatever kind of job I did, everything worked out in the end. Feli was pretty much kidnapped by us, except that it was sort of legal-ish, and he was signed up for school at Vargas Academy, and everything was fine. And... it really was nice living with both of my brothers. I haven't done that since I was seven, and Romeo honestly doesn't even remember what it was like, so while it's a bit weird suddenly having Feli practically lying on top of me all day, I don't mind it.

Well, except for when I'm trying to meet up with Antonio... neither of my brothers would let me out of their sights. I practically have to drug them just to go to the bathroom. Suddenly we're like three peas in a pod, and it's annoying the hell out of me.

"Ve, Lovino, Nonno says that we're having his fiance and their family over for dinner! Won't that be fun~?!"

"Terribly so," I answer dully.** Hey, where are you right now?**

**At my apartment. Thinking about yooooou. 3**

**Shut up, dumbass! ...Are you REALLY thinking about me?**

**I'm always thinking about you, Lovi!**

"Aawww, he said he's always thinking about you! He's so sweet!" coos Feli. I shriek and fumble with my phone, nearly dropping it on the floor.

"Holy fucking mother of Christ, Feli, don't fucking sneak up on me like that!" I shove my phone into my pocket and roll onto my back to glare at him properly. He just giggles, then lays down next to me.

"C'mon, Lovi, let me see!" he whines. "I just want to make sure he's a good boyfriend so that I don't have to kill him or something."

I snigger. "You? Kill someone? How do you plan on doing that?"

Feli pouts. "Well, I can't just let_ mio fratello_ get his heart broken! Getting your heart broken isn't fun."

I stare at him, serious now. "You've gotten your heart broken before, Feliciano?"

He sighs and rolls over on his back to stare up at the ceiling. "Well, yeah. Once or twice. I thought somebody loved me, but... well... it turned out that they didn't. It was okay though."

"I see."

He turns on his side to look at me, the hair curl identical to mine sticking straight up into the air like an antenna. "What about you,_ fratello?_"

I stare at the ceiling, studying the lines and cracks in the white paint. "Um... um... yeah, something like that..." I mumble. My phone buzzes in my pocket and before I know what I'm doing it's out and I'm staring at the message from Antonio.

**I have to go grade some tests now, Lovi! I love you!**

My heart stops beating for a second, I think, and then I grab Feli by the shoulder and shove the phone in his face screaming "Read it, read it, look at it, read it, Feli, do you see what it says?!"

"Lovino, stop moving it around, I can't see it when you do that!" he cries, grabbing the phone from my hands. I roll off the bed and jump to my feet, pacing around the room and trying not to scream with happiness.

"'I have to grade some tests now-' that seems pretty normal,_ fratello_-"

"Keep reading, keep reading!" I lie down on the floor and peer under my bed. I don't know what I'm looking for, but I'm going to look everywhere until I find it.

"'Lovi-' oh, he has a nickname for you, that's sweet! 'I love you-!' Oh, Lovino, he says he loves you, that's so cute!"

I pop my head up over the side of the bed and stare at him. I can't even keep the smile off of my face. "Feli, _he loves me_. Can you believe it? He loves _me. He_ loves me. Can you believe it?"

Feli giggles. "I can believe it, Lovi, but I don't think you can."

I grin at him. "Don't call me Lovi, it's not my name."

Feli pouts. "But _Antonio_ gets to call you Lovi."

"Yeah, but_ Antonio_... Antonio_ loves_ me. He loves me! Can you beleive it?"

"I love you too,_ fratello_..."

"Yeah, but... but _Antonio_... Fuck, Feli, gimme my phone I need to text him back!" I dive on top of him and wrestle the phone from his hands, then start typing.

**I love you too, Antonio. (A lot.) Bye.**

When I'm done I throw my phone onto my bed and fall back on the floor, then roll around a bit. Feli giggles as he scoots forward to peer at me over the edge of the bed. "Lovi, you're so funny right now. Did you have too much coffee this morning?"

I sit up and grab his face, squishing his cheeks together and giggling- giggling! Me! -at the end result. "Maybe I _did_ have too much coffee, because I'm almost excited to have dinner with everyone. Nonno's getting married! You're living with us! Antonio loves me! I don't see how it can get much better than this!"

"Um... maybe if Mama and Papa were here?" Feli offers up doubtfully. I frown.

"I don't think so, Feli... they usually just make everything worse for me."

"Oh... okay then."

"But Feli! _Antonio loves me!_"

* * *

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

* * *

Five hours later, the Beilschmidts- Aldrich, Gilbert and Ludwig -are in the middle of arriving at our house. They've gotten stuck in the entryway, though, because Aldrich and Nonno have to have some sort of loving reunion (basically Nonno threw himself at Aldrich and now won't let go) and Feli won't stop happily greeting Ludwig and Gilbert as if they're all old friends when really they've never met before, and Romeo is following Feli around because... he's following Feli around, and _I'm_ not about to mess around with those brainless fools, because I'm too busy... um... t-texting Antonio...

So basically, dinner's off to a great start.

...No for real. The last time both of our families had dinner together it ended with me running out into the night screaming about murder while Gilbert ran after me yelling something about how he's awesome. So yeah, it was... not very nice.

**What are you doing, Lovi?**

**Texting you. dumbass.**

**Aren't you supposed to be having dinner with your Nonno's boyfriend/fiance/person?**

**The key word here is "supposed," meaning that everyone else is still stuck in the doorway. ...It's actually getting really cold since the door is still open.**

**...Sounds like fun!**

**I think your version of fun and mine are a bit different.**

**Fun for me is being with you, Lovi!**

**...Shut up, ass-butt.**

**But Loviiiii, it's true!**

**Just shut up before I come over there and...**

**And what?**

**And... and... maybe kiss you or something...**

**LOVI YOU WANT TO KISS ME?!**

**Shut up! No I don't!**

**Oh Lovi you're so cute! I want to-**

"Hey Lovi, what are you doing?" Feli asks, leaning in to peer over my shoulder. I quickly shove my phone in my pocket and stand up, straightening my dark red t-shirt nervously.

"N-nothing, Feli, just... texting. Someone. Important. Someone important, yep. He's so important, that... someone."

Feli gives me a strange look. "Ve... okay then! Say hi to Ludwig, Lovi!" Feli grabs the big blond German guy by the hand and pulls him forward. He looks awkwardly down at me (probably since the last time we were in the same room I tried to break a plate over his head) but, at the stupidly hopeful look on Feli's face, turns to me and says a polite hello.

I snort derisively, then cross my arms over my chest and look away from him, trying my best to act, well, cool. "You're lucky I'm in a good mood, Potato Bastard, otherwise I'd do to you what I did last time."

Ludwig winces. "I'm... glad to see you too, Lovino."

I scoff and then brush past him into the dining room. Romeo wiggles his eyebrows wildly at me and mouths something that looks a lot like _gay love, Lovino, gay love_. I briefly consider walking up to him and noogie-ing him until all of his hair falls off and his new girlfriend laughs at him, but I'm a bit distracted by Gilbert running at me, grabbing me by the shoulders, staring deep into my eyes with his own blood-red ones (he's an albino) and solemnly saying "God Lovino, aren't I just so awesome?"

"First of all, get your fucking hands off of my shoulders you asshole. Second, no, you are in _no way_ awesome and if you don't get out of my personal space I'll kill you."

He sniggers but removes his hands from my shoulders. "You? Kill the Awesome Me?"

"Yeah, I could do that. Nonno's got a gun hidden somewhere in this house-"

"Children, children, stop fighting," Nonno says cheerily, putting one of his hands on each of our shoulders and giving us a dangerously happy smile that says, quite clearly,_ "If you mess this up I will dismember you. Slowly."_ I back away from Gilbert and edge slowly to the dinner table, easing carefully into my seat and glaring at everybody before turning back to my phone.

**You're so cute Lovi! I want to-**

"Lovino, no phones right now! We're all having dinner! As a family!"

Because of the dangerous, crazy note in Nonno's voice I shove my phone back into my pocket, even though I'm positively _burning_ with curiosity. Antonio wants to what? Does he want to kiss me too? Does he want to make me dinner? Does he want to go to sleep? (Probably this.) Does he want to, I dunno, eat something... does he want to... does he... does...

...

DOES HE WANT TO HAVE SEX WITH ME?

Because I want to have sex with him...

WHAT?! What am I saying? Of _course_ I don't want to have sex with him! Hell no! Never!

...Well, maybe with the right ambiance- NO!

...

But really, what _does_ Antonio want? Oh my god, this question is just going to _kill_ me all through dinner, isn't it? ...Sigh.

"Ve, _fratello_, Nonno wants you to join in the conversation." Feli whispers to me. I glance up from my dinner plate (from which I was eating, which is what you do when you're eating dinner, you see) and stare at Feli.

"Join in what conversation?" I mutter, trying not to move my mouth too much. "Why do I have to talk? I don't even like these people."

Feliciano pouts at me (I don't think I've mentioned this yet but this is the closest he can get to glaring) and then turns to look at everyone sitting around the table. "But Lovi, everyone here is so nice!"

I snort. "They're _German_, asshat. And what did I tell you about calling me Lovi?!"

"What's so bad about being German, _Lovi_." He narrows his sunshine-colored eyes at me, as if... as if he's _glaring_. I didn't even know that he _could_ glare. Man, Feli must really like sausages.

..._Dio mio_, that came out a lot worse than I thought it would.

"So, Lovino, um... how are you liking school?" This comes from Aldrich. He's trying to make polite conversation, but he's careful around me because he and Nonno- well, they weren't dating yet, but they knew each other -but anyways he was sort of around when I... um... well, threw myself out the window, you know, and he can't really seem to look me in the eye anymore.

"It makes me want to die," I say depressingly, dishing myself out some more pasta. Aldrich and Ludwig wince and look away from me while Gilbert laughs uproariously. Nonno glares at me from across the table but he's not close enough to whack me or anything, so I just ignore him and count on the fact that he can't actually do anything in front of everyone to keep me safe from getting slapped upside the head.

"Lovino!" Feli reprimands me. "Don't be a meanie!"

I turn to look at him with my special, super-depressed face, and then I just stare, unblinking, into his eyes. Nonno sighs audibly, and then everyone turns and ignores me. Phew. Disaster avoided. Finally I can eat my pasta in peace, which is what I wanted in the first place. _Make conversation._ Pfft. Not with those fucking _Germans_. I don't trust Germans. They eat sauerkraut. I mean,_ c'mon now_, cabbage tastes bad _without_ being pickled.

Dinner goes smoothly. It's what comes _after_ dinner that I know will be trouble, because we're all gonna head to the TV room and, like... _talk_. About... something. Or other. But really, what does Nonno expect me to say to these Germans? I mean, we go to the same school, and... we... go to the same school... and we go to the same school. That's all I have in common with Ludwig, and sort of Gilbert, but not quite, because he's a gym teacher and I always skip gym. So basically... we have literally nothing in common except that our grandfathers are getting married. HOLY SHIT, WE'LL BE, LIKE, COUSINS. I don't want to be related to those stupid Germans!

Nonno ushers us all into the TV room and then has Feli, Romeo and I go bring out gelato for everyone to eat, and then we all sit awkwardly on the furniture and try not to look at each other, because that will mean we'll have to converse, and it seems pretty obvious that we're not actually able to do that. So, we sit there in this awkward silence for like seven years and then, suddenly, like a switch has been flicked, Ludwig and Feli are talking animatedly to each other about... who knows what. As if seeing their cue, Nonno and Aldrich start talking with Romeo and Gilbert, and then everybody's talking... except for me. I sigh and try not to feel lonely, but my hand is itching for my phone because_ I want to know what Antonio said, god dammit._ I glance quickly around to see if anyone's looking, then slowly, slowly move my hand down my leg to my jean pocket. I slip a couple fingers inside (oh god, that sounds wrong, what's _wrong_ with me?) and start slowly, gently tugging it out. I glance around one more time and-

-And Nonno's staring right at me with a look that just _screams_ murder, oh fuck, he's going to _kill_ me if I get out my phone, fuck fuck fuck.

I pull my hand out of my pocket and stare at the bland white wall next to me, then sigh. Well fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. This sucks.

After a couple moments I turn to watch the other people in the room talk. They're slightly less bland then the wall. Slightly.

...Feli and Potato Bastard 1 seem to be getting along rather nicely. I hope they don't get together because if they do I'm moving into Antonio's closet and never coming out. (Did I just say that I was never coming out of the closet? Excuse me while I go be completely done with myself. Why can't I ever say anything right?)

(Although... I feel like living inside of Antonio's closet would be nice... he'd make me churros all day and then he'd scooch in and cuddle with me, and I wouldn't ever have to deal with another human being again.)

(Maybe I should join in the conversation instead of imagining things that make me want to cry.)

"SO, NICE WEATHER WE'RE HAVING." I bellow out of nowhere, causing Nonno to actually jump in surprise, as if he'd forgotten I was there. Everyone's eyes quickly turn to me and I blush and look away, shoving a large spoonful of gelato into my mouth to cool myself down.

"Ve~ Have you been having nice weather in Italy recently?' Feliciano asks. "I've been in New York, and we've been having pretty bad weather."

"Oh, Feliciano, you've been in New York? Why?" Ludwig asks, face more curious about Feli than it's even been about anything to do with me.

"Oh, please, call me Feli!" Feli says in that polite, giggly way that girls and girls trapped inside guys' bodies have. He even _waves his hand through the air all gay-like._ And you thought_ I_ was gayer, didn't you? (Wait, I can't remember, am I gay now or am I still straight?)

"Um, okay, Feli... you've been in New York?"

"_Si_, I used to live there! And then I ran away because my parents are being mean!"

"Jeez, Feli, why don't we just tell them our whole life story?" I snort derisively.

"Ve, okay, _fratello_!"

I shoot up from my seat and give him a worried glance. "Feli, I was not being serious. Don't you dare tell them our life story or I will kill you."

"Lovino, no death threats when people are over," Nonno says idly, making Romeo snort into his gelato (actually, how does he even have any left?)

"But Nonno, Lovino always threatens people. How will he survive if he can't?"

"Romeo, be nice."

My phone starts buzzing, but when I reach to check it it's still. This is what lets me know that I_ really fucking need to get on my phone right now because ugh what the fuck did Antonio say ohmigod._

"I'm going to the bathroom," I say abruptly. I quickly leave the room and wander up the hall into the bathroom (yeah, I bet you didn't think I'd actually go in there, did ya?) and lock the door behind me. I grab my phone out of my pocket and finally, _finally_ the moment of truth has arrived... I go and check Antonio's text.

**Oh Lovi you're so cute! I want to kiss you too!**

My heart, I think, probably stops for a moment and I forget to breathe while I try to wrap my head around this message. _He wants to kiss me too._ I jump to my feet as my heart and lungs suddenly remember they're supposed to work or something and burst out of the bathroom, somehow unlocking the door as I go, I think, or maybe it just flies off of its hinges- honestly I don't give a fuck. You wanna know why? _Because Antonio wants to kiss me too._

I run straight down the stairs and right through the entryway/hall/thingy-fucker-asshole-noonecares and only stop to put my shoes on.

"Lovino, where are you going?" calls Nonno from the TV room. Conversation ceases- or maybe it doesn't, I don't really care -as everyone waits for my reply, but all I can manage is a vague mumble before I open the door and run outside. I run as far as I can towards Antonio's apartment, then stop to catch my breath, then run some more, than start walking, and then I walk the rest of the way. I get there about ten minutes after I leave the house and, as I stand in front of the doorway, I'm struck by a really, really good question: _What the fuck am I doing?_

I shift awkwardly from foot to foot in front of his door as I try to get up enough courage to knock. I stare at the door for like two minutes straight before glancing down at the ground and trying to figure out what the fuck I should do now that I've clearly reached stalkerdom, because seriously, what am I doing? _Why_ am I here? I'm such a dumbass...

I pull out my phone and reread Antonio's text, then start a reply: **Hey, Antonio, what are you doing right now? (Sorry I didn't answer, Nonno.)** I send it immediately and then barely have time to congratulate myself on having enough courage to text him when he's replied.

**I'm at home, silly Lovi. Why?**

My breath catches in my throat. We're, like, five feet away from each other. We both want to kiss each other. We both _know_ we want to kiss each other. _We might actually kiss each other tonight oh my god stop I can't handle this._

**...I'm standing outside...** I send. I wonder if I should go away now before he checks for me and then finds me and then who knows what will happen oh my gosh I'm so scared right now-

The apartment door suddenly opens and I jump backward with a half scream. I stare straight into Antonio's eyes and he stares back at me and I feel like maybe lightning is shooting between us but that might just be me, because he breaks the silence by happily saying, "_Hola_ Lovi! What are you doing here?"

"I-I... I... I, um, I'm here... because, um..." I swallow awkwardly and try to look away from his eyes. I can't do it. "You said you wanted to kiss me too," I suddenly blurt. "Is that true? Because I really want to kiss you. A lot. Possibly forever. But only if you want to because otherwise that might be a little awkward and I don't like it when things with you are awkward."

He's quiet for a moment, and then he slowly says, "Yes, Lovi... I'd like to kiss you..."

"Th-then will you please?" I half ask, half beg. I take a couple steps forward, my eyes locked on his lips, but he suddenly backs away, back into his apartment.

"I don't know, Lovi... it's... it's a bit weird... It's not you!" he says when he sees the horrified look on my face. "It's just this whole student-teacher thing, it's a bit weird and I don't want to push your boundaries or anything... because... well, you're not... like the people I usually date."

For some reason, this comes as a revelation to me: Antonio has dated other people. I mean, somewhere in the back of my mind I knew that he had probably been with other people, but... he's _mine_. Not theirs. _Mine_.

But I ignore it for now because I have better things to do.

"You wouldn't be pushing any boundaries if you kissed me right now," I breathe. "None at all. Zero. Actually, if you're not going to kiss me I will probably have to kiss you because I need to. It's my destiny." Oh my god I did not just say that wow major turnoff.

But he just laughs. "Okay then, Lovi," he says, and he walks forward and suddenly his hands are cupping my cheeks and he's staring into my eyes and then he leans forward and softly, gently presses his lips to mine, and it's just... it's bliss.

* * *

**A/N Heh, I finally gave you guys the kiss... just so you know, I wasn't planning on having it like this, but whatever, planning is for Germans and I am Italian, so yeah, here you go.**

**Oh, and would any of you buy a picture book if I managed to get one published? Because I very well might... I'd need someone to draw for it, since I (literally) cannot draw shit, but yes, I might do that. Maybe.**


	12. When In Venice

**When In Venice**

* * *

_"I'll make my mark/ I've got my spark"_

_Ed Sheeran, "Spark"_

_(Continued from chapter six!)_

* * *

"Lovino, where were you?"

I instantly go completely still and hold my breath, because THAT will totally hide me from him.

"Lovino... I can... I can _see_ you, you know."

"No you can't," I immediately insist. "I'm wearing an invisibility cloak."

"...Lovino, do I need to have you go visit a psychologist again-"

"NO."

"Then tell me where you were."

"...I went out."

Nonno snorts and walks up to me, leaning against one of the walls of the entrance. "I noticed _that_, Lovino. I want to know _where you went_."

I avoid his eyes, pretending to be super focused on taking off my shoes. My lips seem to be tingling from where Antonio kissed them and my heart keeps randomly fluttering up to my throat, making it incredibly hard to breathe. I get the insane feeling that if I look at Nonno and he sees my face- my slightly flushed cheeks, my vaguely bright eyes, the fact that I reach up and touch my lips ever half second as if to make sure they're still there -that he'll know that I... I feel like I can fly.

"Lovino. I am your _grandfather._ Your _nonno._ I've raised you since you were _seven._ _Please tell me where you were._" There's a note of panic in his voice that almost makes me tell him, but... I know my telling him would not end well.

"I can't tell you," I say quietly. "I will tell you that I'm perfectly fine. I'm not doing anything bad."

He's quiet for a moment, and then he sighs, long and hard. In fact, it's practically never ending. "Lovino," he says quietly when he's done. "Lovino, I love you, and I want to take care of you, but... if you think what you're doing is okay... then... I trust your judgement."

I stare at him for a long moment, and then suddenly there are tears in my eyes, because I never expected that he would trust me ever again. I quickly reach up and rub my eyes on my sleeve and duck my head so that he can't see my wet eyes.

"Thanks," I say, trying to sound as normal as I can. My voice still sounds a bit hoarse, I think, and I feel my face redden. "I-I'm going to bed now." I quickly walk past in, shaking my head so that my bangs fall in front of my eyes, but before I can even get halfway towards the stairs he's gathered me in a big, comforting hug. I freeze for a moment, but he either doesn't mind or doesn't notice.

I don't know what I'm supposed to feel... what I'm supposed to say... what... what should I do?

Finally he pulls away. "Good night, Lovino. Sleep tight. If you ever leave for a long, unexplained time again, I will probably kill you." He slaps me in a fatherly way on the back, then walks up the stairs, leaving me to stand at the bottom, trying not to either cry or flip major shit.

I wait until he's gone into his bedroom to walk up the stairs, and when I finally make it into my room, I jump onto my bed and press my hands to my mouth. They feel warm. Are the warm because my lips always feel warm or because Antonio's lips were warm when he kissed me? Are they warm because they're, like, so happy to be touching Antonio's mouth that they just... heat up? ...Oh my god, that's the stupidest thing I've ever thought of. I need to get some sleep, don't I...?

I grab my blankets and wrap them around myself, then snuggle into my pillows and try my best to not think about Antonio, which... is failing. How am I supposed to not think about Antonio? He's so... _Antonio._ And yeah, that's not the best description, but there aren't enough words in the English/Italian dictionary to describe Antonio, so go fuck yourselves.

I lie in my bed a while longer, staring up at my ceiling but seeing nothing but Antonio as he leaned in and pressed his lips sweetly against mine... OHMIGOD STOP THINKING ABOUT IT.

Eventually, I fall into a fevered sleep and have a... um, _interesting,_ um, d-dream about, um... A-Antoni- nevermind...

* * *

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

* * *

The next day, we're sitting around in class, waiting for our teacher (aka Antonio, the guy I just kissed...) to show up, when an announcement comes over the speakers:

"Alert, alert, seniors will be having their three-day class trip in Venice soon!" There then comes a scuffling sound as a secretary or something grabs the announcer-phone-thingy from Nonno and begins making sense. I blush and stare at my desk. If anyone asks, I'll tell them that Nonno and I aren't actually related, even though we _look_ related, what with my hair curl and his bajillion hair curls... But I'll just say that I'm adopted. No one will believe me, but at least they won't think that I condone his actions.

"-be at school at six o'clock this Thursday morning." the secretary finishes. "Thank you all for listening to this announcement; you may all get back to your classes now." She hangs up, but not before the _whole entire school_ has the chance to hear my grandfather whining like a little baby.

...I feel _bad_ for Aldrich. He's going to have to keep my childish grandfather in line until they both die.

But... I don't _want_ them to die!

N-nevermind, Lovino, just don't think about it...

I watch quietly as Antonio walks into the room, smiling happily at everyone and clapping his hands together. "Wow, senior trip, huh? You guys excited?"

I shrug, but most of the class says some random bullshit about how they're so damn excited, blah blah blah, Venice, blah blah blah. I'm not saying that Venice isn't _cool_ or anything- I mean, it's in fucking Italy, it's awesome! -it's just that, well... how do I put this gently? It smells like rotten vagina. Quaint, I know, but true. The canals are all full of icky sea water and there is pretty much more canals then actual city, so all the air in the city pretty much smells like rotten vagina. Of course, you get used to it after a while, but three days isn't long enough, so the whole trip will smell like the stink of rotten vagina.

Oh, joy.

Venice _is_ super cool though. In fact, Nonno, Romeo and I used to live there for a year or so, back when I was eight or nine or something. It was pretty badass; once you got over the smell, the whole romanticness of the place gets to you, and you honestly feel like you can go up to anybody and just fall immediately in love and get married and have kids and have a perfect life until you die.

Also, it's fun to play with the pigeons. I swear to god, if you throw food they will just land on you. Make sure you wear clothes you don't like too much, because these birds know nothing about things like "sanitary-ness" or "toilets." Or "toilet paper," for that matter. I mean, Jesus, can't they at least clean _up_ after themselves?

Oh, and Venice has got all sorts of art and stuff. And museums. Yeah, it's pretty great, y'know, if you're into that sort of stuff. Which I'm not. Feli is, though. He'll be super excited when he next sees me; he'll probably run me over in his haste to tell me how awesome this all will be. The little shit.

"-really excited to be going to Venice with you, it should be fun, don't you think?" Antonio is saying. The students all chirp their agreement, probably only glad they don't have to present the short stories they were supposed to write. I think bad thoughts about them for a moment until my brain lazily turns back to what Antonio is saying in the first place: "_-really excited to be going to Venice with you, it sho-_"

I slam my hands down on the table suddenly, staring at Antonio with wide eyes. _"You're_ going to Venice too?" I ask, not sure if I should believe it or not. He smiles at me, and, maybe it's just me, but I sort of feel like he's smiling _lovingly_ at me... oh god. I feel my face begin to heat up and try to ignore it.

"I'm glad to know what at least Lovino was paying attention!" Antonio says with a chuckle. The rest of the class giggles evilly, and now my face is _really_ burning. Oh god oh god oh god, dammit Antonio, read the mood or something, fuckit!

"Yes, I will be going to Venice with you, as a watcher-teacher-person." He waves a hand airily through the air. "Whatever they're called. It should be fun, right, class?"

"Right," we all chorus, but I'm pretty sure mine is the only heart that flutters as I say it. I'll be going to fucking _Venice,_ the most romantic place in the world, with my... m-my _boyfriend._ Fuck. This will be... crazy.

* * *

(','(','(','('.')';')';')';')

* * *

When I wake up on Thursday morning- bright and early, because Nonno is a fucking dick -the house is filled with the smell of cooking tomato sauce. My stomach immediately reacts in the natural way, growling hungrily and telling me, in stomach speak, to get the fuck outta my bed and eat some pasta, which seems like a bad idea, since it's so early in the morning, but _god_ do I want to.

I get out of bed, get dressed, then check through my big suitcase to make sure I have everything I need, which means five pairs of jeans and five t-shirts and a ton of socks and some underwear and a camera and my laptop and some notebooks and a sketchpad. And four pairs of pajamas. You know, the necessities.

When I'm done checking my bag, I wander downstairs, then peek into the kitchen to see Romeo making _puttanesca_ sauce. The bitch. I hope he gets kicked in the head by a pissing angel.

"Romeo, why are you making _puttanesca_ when I'm leaving?" I ask him redundantly, since I'm pretty sure I already know the answer. He turns to me and shoots me a smug smile.

"It's 'cause you're leaving, duh. I want you to feel the pain of what you've done to me."

"I haven't done _anything_ to you, you dickass!"

He rolls his eyes at me and turns back to the sauce. I'm about to continue chewing him out when Feli walks into the room, looking all floaty and happy. "We're going to Venice today, Lovi! My hometown!"

"I told you not to call me Lovi, jackass!" I hiss at him. "Also, we were _all_ born in New York, so how in the holy history of _fuck_ is Venice your hometown?"

He shrugs as he starts making us both omelets. "I just feel like it should be!"

I sigh, throwing myself into a chair at the table and rubbing my forehead. "Feli, how are we even related?"

"Mama and Papa had sex, and then, after nine months, Mama gave birth to us." Feli says matter-of-factly as he shreds cheese for the omelet.

"I DIDN'T WANT IT IN DETAIL, FELICIANO." I holler. "Ew ew ew, thanks for the gross mental image..." Don't you just hate it when you start thinking about your conception and, ah, what that means your parents were doing...? Ew. Gross. Yuck.

Romeo suddenly drops the spoon he's holding into the pot of sauce, gagging. "Ewewewewew, Mama and Papa are so _old!"_

"Once they were young, though." I inform him knowingly as I begin to make coffee (espresso, of course, because what sort of Italian would I be if I didn't drink espresso?). "Once everyone was young. Even Nonno."

"What do you mean _once?!"_ Nonno yells suddenly. "Oh my _god,_ am I starting to look old?!" He bolts up the stairs to the bathroom, then starts wailing pathetically. I roll my eyes.

"Dipshit." I mutter under my breath. Romeo rolls his eyes in agreement while Feli runs upstairs to comfort our stupid grandfather. And he's supposed to be the adult in this relationship. I swear, if I didn't know Antonio I'd think there was no man more childish on this earth.

Not that... Antonio was at _all_ childish when he kissed me...

Feli and I eat a quick breakfast of omelets and espresso, say goodbye to Romeo (who glares at us), then have Nonno drive us to the airport where our private airplane will be taking off from (I know right, we get a fancy private airplane). We say bye to him too (he and Feli crying over each other, for some reason- Jesus fuck, it's only three motherfucking days) and then board the plane. I put my suitcase (which is small enough to fit into the overhead rack- kudos to me, bitches) in the overhead rack- but not before pulling out a notebook to write in -and then begin writing my epic novel once more.

And that's when I realize: Antonio and I met in an airplane. _Holy motherfucking shit_.

I squirm around in my seat and try not to glance to where Antonio's sitting, near the back of the plane. I stare at the seat in front of me, trying not to blush as I (probably imagine) the feeling of Antonio staring at me. Someone sits down next to me, and I glance over to see Eliza sitting there, looking vaguely smug. She elbows me a couple times in the side, wiggles her eyebrows, then jerks her head at Antonio. I glance back to see that he's happily chatting with Francis, you know, Michelle's older brother, and also one of his teacher friends. Francis has silky, shoulder-length blond hair, clear blue eyes, and a slightly stubbly chin. He's medium-height, thin-ish, and always wears fashionable clothes, a fact which I respect him for, since fashionable clothes is always a good thing.

"So, Antonio's going on this trip," Eliza says when I turn back to look at her. "There's all sorts of stuff you could get up to all alone in Venice, you know."

I feel my face slowly turn red as a tomato as I get what she's saying. "Wh-wh-what- I-I'm not going to-"

She slings an arm around my shoulder in a friendly way, pulling me towards her to whisper in my ear. "I think it would be a good idea... no one to interrupt you, hmm?"

"H-how do you know one would interrupt us? You haven't met my brother, and besides I don't even want to-"

She laughs rather loudly, making a couple people turn towards us and stare at us weirdly. "Oh, you _totally_ do, honey, you just don't want to admit it because you're tsundere."

"Tsundere-?"

"It's a thing that Japan taught me about. Don't worry about it. The important thing here is that you'll be able to fuck him and so you _should_ fuck him. It'll be great."

"Eliza, I am not taking relationship advice from you. You always give me bad advice."

"Yes, I know, but it's for your own good."

"How exactly is that for my own good?"

"I dunno. I just felt like you might trust me more if I said that."

"I don't. And I never will, actually."

"Okay, then trust Bella. She agrees with me. She thinks it's a good idea. He's a teacher, he'll have his own room, you know..."

I blush yet again, stutter over a couple more endless sentences, then finally say, "No."

She leans away from me, looking terribly disappointed. "You're not going to take the chance when it's handed to you? Right on a silver platter? Tsk. I'm ashamed that we're both homosexuals. You might as well be _straight."_ She says it like it's some sort of insult, then flounces up out of the seat next to me to sit next to Bella, both of whom then proceed to stare at me like I've just done something absolutely terrible. I flip them both the bird before I begin scribbling in my notebook, struck by sudden inspiration.

And then Feliciano sits down in the seat in front of me, Ludwig sitting next to him. They're both talking animatedly about something (well, Feli is animated, Ludwig... not so much), interrupting my focus.

"Isn't that right, Lovino?" Feli asks suddenly. I look up and glare at him evilly.

"Hush, Feli, I'm busy."

"Busy with what?" He peers over the top of his seat, and I scramble to get my notebook out of his view, causing it to fall on the floor. It flips open to a page I absolutely do not want him to see- a rather awkward picture -and I dive down onto the floor after it, covering it up.

_"Fratello,_ what was that picture-"

"NOTHING! Nothing at all!" I close the notebook quickly, then glance around for an open seat. The only one is the recently vacated one next to Antonio, and I don't hesitate one bit as I get to my feet and run over to where he's sitting, collapsing in the seat next to him.

"Hi!" he says happily when he sees me. I glance at him and can't stop myself from turning what I figure is a brilliant shade of crimson, going by the way he giggles hysterically, then tries to cover it up.

"Sh-shut up!" I say under my breath, scowl-blushing, a technique I've perfected. If you have to blush you might as well scowl too.

"I didn't even say anything!" he says gleefully.

"But you were laughing!" I lower my voice. "Hey, don't act like we really know each other, okay? We have to keep this a secret, remember?"

He smiles at me. "Of course I remember!" I blush again. I hate it when he starts acting like an adult instead of a little kid. It makes him seem so much more... hot.

"Please buckle your seatbelts and prepare for take-off," says the pilot's voice over the speakers. I immediately start scrambling for my seatbelt. I'm a bit... not afraid of heights, exactly, it's just that I absolutely _do not_ want to die in an airplane. Like... what? What could suck more than just... dying on an airplane? Dying in the shower, I suppose, or on the toilet, but... well, dying on an airplane just does not appeal to me. What if it hurts? What if all they find of me is a finger? _What if they accidentally mark my grave "Peter Pettigrew?!"_

Antonio pats my hand quickly, when no one's looking, I'm guessing. "Don't worry, Lovi- _no,_ haha -it'll be okay. What do they always say in movies? More people die in, um, something else than in airplanes."

I laugh. "Wow, and doesn't that just fill me with confidence." Somehow, it does though. If I die on this airplane, at least I'll die with Antonio. I'm sure people will think it's romantic. Someone will have to write an epic romance novel off of it, which will then get turned into a highly successful,_ just like the book_, movie.

He grins sheepishly. "Haha, yeah, well... I'm not usually in movies!"

"A likely excuse," I half mutter under my breath.

He smiles at me, then reaches out and ruffles my hair. I glance around warily, not sure if that could be seen as vaguely romantic or just Antonio being affectionate. When I see that nobody's staring and pointing at the two of us like we've been doing something terribly kinky (which we totally haven't, since I'm fucking _super_ virgin), I decide to just... y'know... let him ruffle my hair, and I _definitely_ don't feel like a cat being pet, because that's totally not what's happening here. Well. I'm sure that's what Eliza sees, but honestly, she's... a freak. So yeah. She doesn't count.

The plane trip is super uneventful. Antonio and I sort of just sit around and play Go Fish, which is actually fun sometimes. On occasion. When played with the right people/person. Antonio is definitely the right person.

The flight isn't even that long, either, though I still manage to fall asleep, because I always fall asleep on planes, even if it's only for a couple seconds. When we finally get off in Venice, everyone is super excited to see the house we'll be staying at. They've never seen it, of course, but I stay there sometimes towards the beginning of summer, before I go to New York City. Now that I think about going to the Big Apple, am I even going to go this year? I mean, I guess Feli might leave to there soonish... I glance to my right to see Feli talking animatedly with Ludwig- I swear, they're practically glued together or something -and roll my eyes while smirking, which is... an odd expression. Feli's parents are _never_ going to get him back to NYC now that he's learned of the charms of Italy- and Italy's resident Germans, apparently. He's so totally crushing on Ludwig. I don't even need Eliza or someone to point that out for me, which I figure means it's pretty obvious to everyone except the two involved.

I glance toward the front of the group, where Antonio and a couple other teachers are heading the group as we walk towards some boats. Since we're in Venice and all, we have to travel by water, which seems like it should be quite a hassle to the teachers, but none of them look worried in the slightest. Maybe it's just Antonio and the fact that he nevers worries about anything, ever, or maybe it's just that only one person has gone missing on these trips, and that was Nonno, and he was only missing for, I dunno, a couple of hours. That damn asshole.

Some other people and I get into a boat- which is, sadly, _not_ the boat that Antonio's supervising -and we start moving down the canal, which is an action that's not nearly as wrong as I somehow made it sound, so shut your fucking face.

We travel a while, then reach the house/mansion/thingy-fucker. We have to share rooms in this place, and I am, sadly, sharing with Feliciano... which just... I mean... how is _that_ cool? I've got to live with the guy in Rome, why do I have to do it in Venice too? Although... if I wasn't paired with him, I'd be paired with someone like... fucking Potato Bastard or something. Fuck him.

We all file into the house-y thing, and Feli and I head to our room, which is way up near the top for some reason. We unpack our shit, then wander back down to the ground floor. We'll all be meeting up here to go travel around the city, which should be fun. I can dazzle everyone with my excessive knowledge of the Pizzerias of Venice. And the bookstores. And the clothing stores, but don't tell anyone I said that, because then they'll think I'm gay. Which I guess I am, but that doesn't matter.

After a while, everyone's in the downstairs entry-way-thingy, which is... big and entryway-ish, and so we all leave to the city. We split into groups though, with two teachers in each (meaning that there are three groups). Me and Feliciano have a brief argument, because he wants me to be in the same group as him and Ludwig and I will only consent to that if we're with Antonio, so the four of us, plus Eliza, Michelle, Bella, and these two weird dudes from Denmark and Norway (who everyone thinks are in a relationship, even though the Norwegian dude always says they're not), and some other teacher who's far less interesting than Antonio. Meaning that I don't know his name. The little fucker.

And then we all set off into the wilderness that is Venice. Except that it's not really wilderness, it's just a city. Well, okay there _are_ a lot of pickpockets, but pickpocketing is pretty fun! ...N-not that I've ever done it before, haha... ha.

Antonio and the other teacher point out some tourist attractions and cool-looking buildings (in Antonio's case), and Eliza and Bella send me looks that basically say that I should drag Antonio into an empty doorway and fuck. Like, right in public, on the streets of Venice. Um, no thanks.

I stay far-ish away from Antonio so that I will resist the urge to interact with him in any way that is not considered normal, but occasionally I do find myself bumping into him companionably, which fills me with a warm, gooey feeling, like warm chocolate chip cookies.

We're all crossing a bridge that goes over one of the many canals when two guys run past us, one of them shouting about pickpockets. Since I was leaning partway of the edge of the bridge to see some baby ducks (BABY DUCKS ARE WORTH IT) I get _knocked into the water._

So... I won't go into detail, because the canal was really gross and I don't want to bring back those terrible, scarring memories (have you ever fallen into a canal? Here's some advice: Don't. Ever), but I will say that it was gross, and it got my clothes all gross, and it also resulted in Antonio having to take me back to the hotel, where I take a shower and change into clean clothes while he puts mine in the wash.

We both end up sitting in mine and Feliciano's shared bedroom, on one of the beds, just chilling and doing nothing and (in my case) resisting the urge to reach over and run my fingers through his hair, which would be super embarrassing and stupid and I would never do anything like that-

Suddenly I feel warm breath on my cheek, and then his lips are on the corner of my mouth. My breath is practically pulled right out of my lungs, and I feel my cheeks getting warmer and warmer and redder and redder, which I try not to think about.

I turn toward him as he pulls away, staring nervously at his mouth, wondering if I have it in me to, like... m-make out with him or something.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks softly, green eyes peering earnestly into mine. I nod- probably too quickly and too fast, but I can't help myself, because we've only kissed once, and I want to kiss him forever or something, and-

-and then he's kissing me.

_Hard._

Okay, so let me describe to you a few things: There are multiple types of kisses, most of which I won't go into. The first type, though, is the soft, sweet type, where you press your mouths together and everything is magical and dandelions float around in your head.

The _second_ type is when your older teacher boyfriend scoots over toward you and grabs you by the shoulders and presses his mouth to yours, and suddenly there's tongue and then you wind your arms around his neck and the kiss deepens, somehow, even though you didn't know it could do that, and then you hesitantly stick your tongue in his mouth and all is well with the world.

Just so you know, we did the second type, which is way hotter than the first type, and got us both extremely out of breath by the time we were done, which was also when I noticed that I was sprawled across the bed with him half on top of me.

Oh. Okay. So... this isn't as uncomfortable as I'd always thought it would be. It's... actually... It's really nice. Like... I don't know. It's just... nice. Ish.

Eventually, he rolls off of me, and I can breathe a bit easier, but now I'm cold, which is a perfectly reasonable excuse to move closer to him and sort of... not _cuddle,_ just lie together to keep warm so that we won't freeze to death, you know? I would never cuddle with Antonio.

* * *

**A/N What does it say about me if I read my own fanfiction for fun and then get totally hooked on the story? O_O LIKE SERIOUSLY I WAS READING CHAPTER NINE AND I JUST GOT HOOKED TO THE STORY WHAT THE FUCK?! I mean... I WROTE that... O_O,**

**I've always wanted to say this: The chapters just keep getting longer! *claps* **

**Also, do you want to know something stupid? I HAVE FUCKING LONG A/Ns Seriously, just story-wise I barely have 40,000 words, but on here I have more than that, and since I add the A/Ns on FF that means I have ridiculously long A/Ns...**

**Shout out to Jywy and i-Spit-on-Fire and VivaAmerica for being FUCKIN' AWESOME! XD**


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